In the Arms of Her Dragon
by Wolf Blossom
Summary: "Why're you crying?" Draco whispered, sitting down beside Hermione in a deserted Great Hall. Looking up at him with puffy eyes, she admitted what happened earlier at the Gryffindor Tower. Without a moment's hesitation, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and said: "Come on, you're spending the night in the Slytherin dungeon. With me."
1. Letters that Began Everything

_**In the Arms of Her Dragon**_

_"Why're you crying?" Draco whispered, sitting down beside Hermione in a deserted Great Hall. Looking up at him with puffy eyes, she admitted what happened earlier at the Gryffindor Tower. Without a moment's hesitation, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and said: "Come on, you're spending the night in the Slytherin dungeon. With me."_

_.xx._

Sitting in the kitchen of her quaint little home, Hermione Granger was pouring over her favourite: Hogwarts: A History, trying to find double meanings behind the words that were permanently etched into her brain. Not even a few steps away, her beloved mother Jean Granger, was preparing a filling breakfast of eggs, bacon, and hash browns.

"Mum," Hermione called out, chewing on the back of a pencil, "do you want to look over this passage for me? I _think_ there has to be a second meaning behind it but… I'm not too sure."

Glancing over her shoulder, Jean hid a warm smile. Ever since her memories had been returned and she and her husband moved back from Australia, her daughter Hermione had made every attempt to bring their day-to-day life back to a norm. That involved asking her mother for intellectual help, and helping her father with hard labour around the house. In the three short weeks that she had been home, Hermione helped her father repair two toilets, and helped her mother finish a book titled Ergonomics of Ecofriendly Dentistry.

As Jean moved to put her spatula down, a familiar owl flew in threw the kitchen window, dropped a letter onto Hermione's head, and perched on Jean's shoulder. Glaring at the owl, Hermione picked up the rolled up parchment as her mother began cooing and trying to feed the owl some eggs. "You're such a cutie, Bubo Bubo," she spoke in baby-talk. "Such a cutie."

"Mum!" Hermione scolded. "That owl is a menace."

"No he isn't!" Jean defended. "This poor owl flies through London to drop you off a letter. Least we can do is give him a cracker… or _eggs_."

Hermione rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure it gets enough crackers at the Malfoy Manor."

Jean ignored her daughter and continued to feed the little owl. It was a weekly tradition that began just short of three weeks ago; Hermione had owl'd Draco Malfoy (it had been near impossible to get a hold of an owl, but she had managed to call Harry's aunt and uncle to get a hold of him, so Harry could get a hold of Ron to send her one of his spare owls). Draco had replied with his personal owl, Bubo Bubo, and the thing had taken a liking to Hermione's mother immediately.

Now-a-days, it lounged around patiently until Hermione wrote her response and sent it back to the Manor. Apparently, from what Hermione had learned, the longer she waited to write the letter, the happier both her mother and the owl were. "What did he write to you this week, darling?" Jean inquired, watching her daughter scan over the parchment.

Hermione looked over at her mother. "He's telling me that he's going to Diagon Alley in a few weeks' time to get his measurements for his robes and buy new cauldrons. Hmm… never thought _he_ was on top of things when it came to school."

Jean laughed. "You never know, dear. You never know… are you writing back to him soon?"

"Tonight, maybe." Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes. "You have your time with that flying rat; I'll go look at my textbook upstairs."

"Here!" Jean handed her daughter a plate. "Have breakfast too! And remember, we're headed into the city today. Your father _really_ wants a new toolbox. Lord only knows why."

Laughing, Hermione kissed her mother's cheek and glared at the owl before retreating to her room upstairs. Closing the door behind her, she threw herself onto her bed and stared at the third letter she'd received from Draco Malfoy since the Wizarding War. They weren't exactly _friends_, but they had gotten past the stage of acquaintances. In his previous letter, he coined them to be "frenemies." Liking the term, Hermione went with it.

_Granger,_

_I don't understand why I keep owling you, but for some unknown reason I can't stop. I don't owl just _anybody_; not even my fellow Slytherins so consider yourself lucky. Like I said before, numerous times, I couldn't stand by and watch Bellatrix Crucio you. Yes, we haven't been on speaking terms for the better part of seven years but I could hardly see you being put under one of the three Unforgiveable Curses. So, let us put that in the past and move on now, shall we?_

_You mentioned your mum? So I take it you brought your mum and dad back from Australia. That's… good, I suppose. I don't have any more to say about that so please excuse my lack of emotion. My mother wants to take the three of us on vacation so I will be heading to Diagon Alley next week to get supplies for school. While I'm away on vacation, I won't be owling anybody._

_Not even you._

_Draco Malfoy_

_P.S: I don't know what the heck you're feeding my owl, but it gained at least five pounds. Stop feeding my owl!_

Hermione shook her head and threw the letter onto the other two letters she had from him. Who was she kidding—why did she even decide to _thank_ him for saving her life?! It was evident that he didn't even want to put in an effort so who was she to try. Grabbing the six letters she had in the pile of "Letters from Malfoy" Hermione flopped back down onto her bed and picked up the letter he sent her; a response to what she had written to him.

Three weeks ago, Hermione Granger wrote a letter that went something like...

_Dear Malfoy;_

_I know this may be an unusual owl for you, I mean, I know I would be rather curious and worried if I were to be receiving an owl from you but I had to contact you. I wanted to thank you for what you did; for saving me when we were at your Manor. I couldn't say that I was expecting you to help, but to be truthfully honest; I thought you were going to stand there. Perhaps cheer Bellatrix on. Is that awful of me? But really, can you blame me?_

_I don't know why you did it, and neither am I going to dwell on what brought you to throw yourself in front of the Crucio, but I just wanted to let you know that I am eternally grateful and I owe you my life. Although you probably could care less about what I have to say, I am still going to say it. You aren't an evil man, Draco. You have a heart and I want to thank you for finding a place for me in there, however little that place may be, to save my life._

_Forever in your debt,_

_Hermione Granger_

His response to her had been curt. But she didn't lose heart.

_Granger,_

_I couldn't watch you being tortured. That was it. There is no place in my heart for you, whatever that is supposed to mean. I'm sure you would've done the same for me. _

_Maybe._

_Draco Malfoy_

So she had replied to him with a tone she had hoped to make him feel slightly bad for how he wrote her his letter. It worked.

A little.

_Dear Malfoy,_

_Whether you agree or not, I do believe that you care even if it is in the slightest. Though I don't know if I can say the same about my friends (you know who I'm speaking of), but I do know that you couldn't bear to see what was happening. I am simply thanking you for what you have done—isn't it about time that we moved past this bickering acquaintance stage and call this something a bit more? I doubt there will be any severe rivalry between us, mostly due to the fact that You-Know-Who is defeated._

_Sincerely,_

_Hermione_

Again, he had replied curtly.

_Granger,_

_Fine. You're welcome. And no, we aren't friends. Maybe we aren't enemies but we most _definitely_ aren't friends. I'll call it frenemies, for now, but that isn't written in stone._

_And even if, by chance, there is a place for you somewhere in my heart – IF there is, it's REALLY miniscule, just so you know – there is no chance in hell that Potter and Weasley will feel the pleasures of my good graces. I'm appalled that you'd even THINK that. I thought you were the smart one._

_Way to prove me wrong._

_On another note, being put under the Crucio by Bellatrix wasn't that bad. Remember, I'm a Malfoy. We're invincible._

_Draco Malfoy_

She replied to him, which was the last letter she had sent prior to his most current response.

_Malfoy,_

_I didn't _say_ that Harry and Ron would be lucky enough to feel the pleasure of your good graces. Honestly, you should be more careful when you read letters, lest you read it wrong and interpret it differently. All I'm trying to convey here is that I cannot be thankful enough for what you did. _

_Your sarcasm won't work with me, you most certainly did not enjoy being put under the Crucio but I will humour you._

_In any case, I will never forget what you did for as long as I shall live._

_Apart from that, my mum loves your owl. Personally, I think it's a flying rat but who am I to judge. Everybody is under the impression that my cat is squished…_

_Anyway, I honestly don't know what else to write so I shall end it here._

_Take care,_

_Hermione_

She skimmed over the most recent letter he sent before throwing all the letters onto the floor. She realized how desperate she may have come across in her letters but what else was she to do? Draco Malfoy had _thrown_ himself in front of the Unforgiveable Curse his Aunt had aimed at Hermione.

Closing her eyes, she could vividly remember the look of murder written across Bellatrix's face, the look of horror in Draco's eyes, the pang of fear when Bellatrix raised her wand, and the sense of confusion and shock when Draco threw himself in front of the wave of magic. Hermione was stunned and watched Draco fight the effects of the curse, trying to ask his to stop but the craziness that had swept over Bellatrix seemed impenetrable.

Feeling weak, Hermione had fumbled to find her wand which had fallen out of her hand at some point. She had to stop Bellatrix—she had to save Draco who had _just_ saved her. That was when Narcissa reacted, making a move towards her sister with her wand pointing up.

"LET HIM GO, BELLA!" Narcissa had roared before casting the Expelliarmus. Bellatrix flew backwards and Draco had been released from the deadly pain. As Narcissa had gone to attack her sister for hurting her son, Hermione cradled an injured Draco in her arms.

Neither of the two wanted to admit it, but they had formed some sort of bond that night. He had saved her life… and she was there to hold him when he was hurt.

Curling up into a tight ball, Hermione let sleep consume her once more. Her breakfast that her beloved mother had handed to her grew cold in the extra few hours of sleep that Hermione had managed to sneak in.

_.xx._

Lounging on the sofa with Crookshanks sleeping on her lap, Hermione had her parchment paper over one of her old textbooks with a quill pinched between her thumb and forefinger. She was trying to compose a letter to send back to Draco Malfoy but she couldn't find the right words to say.

Eventually she settled for:

_Dear Malfoy,_

_Have fun on your vacation._

_Yours truly,_

_Hermione_

Deeming it appropriate, she glanced at Bubo Bubo sitting on her kitchen windowsill and whistled for him to come over. Within minutes, the owl was flying out of her house and back to the Manor from which it came from. Exhaling loudly, Hermione turned her attention back to her sleeping cat. Running her fingers through its mane, she tried to keep her mind off of a certain blond-haired boy.

_He's still awfully mean,_ she told herself, _no matter the fact he saved your life, he evidently doesn't care. Drop it and don't contact him anymore._

Seemed like the logical thing to do.

_.xx._

Though the rest of the summer was uneventful, Hermione was glad. With all the drama that the past seven years at Hogwarts had entailed, a summer of doing absolutely _nothing_ was refreshing. Part of her was glad that she was returning to Hogwarts, but another part of her wished that Headmistress McGonagall had just let them graduate for partaking in the Wizarding War and defeating Voldemort.

But hey, at least the 1991 first-year admits could rightfully claim the title as "The first and only 8th year students to have ever attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Whether that was a _good_ title or bad was left to interpretation.

Harry had dropped by Hermione's place and even slept over for a few nights. It was relaxing, having a household full of Muggle-technology apt people. Ron had visited but it didn't work out too well.

There were three weeks remaining in the summer and Hermione had slowly begun packing her things for the school year. She was already expecting it to be _boring_—she had become so accustomed to dodging death for the past seven years that a school year that was _normal_ seemed abnormal. As she was packing some of her jeans away (for weekends at Hogsmeade), there was a tapping on her window.

"Bubo?!" Hermione gasped, flying over to her window to let it open. Shooting in, the owl dropped the letter and quickly flew through Hermione's open door, obviously in search of her mother. Not bothering to follow it, Hermione picked up the letter and the small velvet bag that the owl had brought her.

_Granger,_

_I'm back. Missed me? Good, because I definitely missed me. Before you ask, no, I have no idea why on Merlin's green earth I'm owling you but I am. Back from vacation and packing my robes when I realized that the Slytherin crest is missing from a few of them so, as angry as I am, I need to head to Diagon Alley next week. I was wondering when you'd be there._

_Also, I got you something from Italy. _

_Draco Malfoy_

Gawking at the letter, Hermione didn't know if it was a joke or if it was a joke! Draco Malfoy wanted to know when _she_ was going to Diagon Alley and brought her something back from his _vacation_?! The world was going to end—as if it wasn't already ending from the time he saved her life a few months ago.

Opening the velvet pouch, Hermione saw a thin silver chain faintly glistening. Flipping the pouch upside down and dumping the contents onto her hand, she finally saw the gift in all its glory: a thin chained necklace with a small diamond studded feather pendant strewn onto it. The little note that had also been in the pouch had something scribbled onto it.

_Healer Pendant. Has the feather of a phoenix in it; contains healing properties. Reminded me of you._

She didn't know what to be worried of more: the fact Draco Malfoy had gotten her something.

Or the fact that her heart was beginning to pound in her chest.

_.xx._

_Dear Malfoy;_

_I was going to head to Diagon Alley in a few days, actually. I had already booked my room at the Leakey Cauldron. If you're there and wish to meet up, look me up. _

_By the way, I adore the necklace but I'm trying to figure _what_ hex you put on it._

_Yours truly,_

_Hermione_

Shaking his head at the letter, Draco scanned over it twice over before throwing it onto the base of his bed. Lying back down, he stared at his ceiling, at the intricate tree branch pattern that had crawled into his room from the family tree downstairs. The many faces of his family glowered at him but he only glowered back in return.

He didn't know what had possessed him to buy the Healer Pendant in Italy. He had to lie through his perfect _teeth_ to his parents _and_ his mate, Blaise Zabini to buy that necklace and owl it over to Hermione Granger. It _had_ reminded him of her, but he didn't need to buy the stupid thing.

Just like how he didn't need to throw himself in front of Bellatrix's Crucio earlier that summer. Memories of the pain _haunted_ him—he was sure the mental trauma of that was permanent. But _Granger_… something _about_ her. He didn't _like_ her, but he sure as hell didn't **hate** her like he did her friends.

She was just there, the bushy haired, buck teethed little girl that tagged along with the Boy Who Lived.

_A bushy haired, buck teethed little _caterpillar _that grew up to be a gorgeous butterfly…_ Draco paused._ Oh Merlin, all this owling Granger is making me go insane. Caterpillars and butterflies?!_ Draco rubbed his hands over his face and counted backwards from one hundred. He couldn't _explain _it. There was a feeling of deep contempt for his aunt when he saw her raise her wand and move to curse Granger. The second Bellatrix flicked her wand and the wave of magic that was the Crucio shot out, Draco knew what he had to do.

He had to protect Hermione Granger.

The feeling; the desire to _protect_, was still a foreign concept to him. He had bickered with her for seven years and just the thought of her being hurt, the thought of her potentially _dying_ scared him. He couldn't do it; he _could not_ let her die.

And as a result, he threw himself in front of the Crucio to protect her. The pain, the _rush_ of the blood in his ears, the pounding in his head, they were feelings he would never forget. He faintly could remember his mother screaming before disarming Bellatrix.

Before he succumbed to unconsciousness, Draco vividly remembered Hermione cradling his head, tears streaking down her cheeks.

"MALFOY!" She had called for him.

_Why was she crying for me?_ He thought but already knew the answer…

_The same reason you threw yourself in front of the Crucio for her._

_.xx._

_Granger,_

_Aren't you charming? A simple 'thank you' would've sufficed for all the trouble I went through to get the stupid thing for you. It is __**not**__ hexed, but if it is any consolation, I'll parade around in it for a day to prove you wrong. _

_I'll see you in Flourish and Blotts next Monday- I know you'll be stuck in there for the better half of your time in Diagon Alley anyway._

_Draco Malfoy_

He was _serious_! He really wanted to meet up with her at Diagon Alley. Hermione could **not** believe her eyes. Folding the letter and tucking it into her pocket, she ushered Bubo to follow her – he had been perched on her windowsill since her mother wasn't home.

"Hungry, Bubo?" She asked and the owl hooted. Even though it looked like a ginormous flying rat, it _had_ been flying back and forth through London for the sake of her and Draco Malfoy. The _least_ she could do was feed it.

_I sound like Mum._ She laughed to herself. Finding some granola, she poured it into a bowl and set it down for Bubo to feast on. The owl immediately gorged on crunchy nuts and honey. The front door unlocked and Hermione looked up to see her mum and dad return from grocery shopping.

"Hi, darling," John greeted her as she placed a kiss on his cheek. She grinned at her mum and kissed her before grabbing a few bags and hauling them into the kitchen. "And I see the owl has returned."

Jean squealed and Hermione and her father exchanged glances. It always amused them when Jean became excited with the little owl flew into their home. Helping her mum and dad (after Jean got over her initial excitement of seeing Bubo Bubo), Hermione promptly informed them that she would be taking the Knight Bus in a few days' time to head to Diagon Alley.

Jean had asked if Hermione needed help packing. Without warning, tears swarmed the witch's eyes; she loved her parents so much…

After a nice family lunch (complete with Crookshanks and Bubo Bubo), Hermione helped Jean with the dishes before heading up to her father's study to write three letters: one for Draco Malfoy, one for Harry Potter, and one for the Weasley family. She glanced up at Bubo Bubo. "Hey, would you mind making a detour before heading back to Malfoy?"

The owl hooted and bobbed its head. Hermione took that to be a yes and proceeded to pen her three letters.

Number one:

_Dear Malfoy,_

_Can you blame me for being a little sceptical? And I resent the fact that you seem to be under the impression that I spend all my time at bookstores. Let's see if you can catch me while I'm in Flourish and Blotts._

_Yours,_

_Hermione_

Number two:

_Hi Harry,_

_The strangest thing has been happening all summer. I know we've spoken on the phone a couple of times and you came and slept over but I thought it was a onetime thing. I'll explain everything to you at Diagon Alley—we're all headed to Platform Nine-and-three-quarters together, right? I'm not sure when Ron and Ginny are going to Diagon Alley though._

_I have a room at the Leakey Cauldron so look me up whenever you get there._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Number three:

_Dear Weasley Family;_

_How're you all? Summer is over and we're all headed back to Hogwarts… fun! I wanted to let you all know that (I also owl'd Harry) I'll be headed to Diagon Alley in a few days via Knight Bus. I already have a room rented at the Leakey Cauldron so when Ron and Ginny drop by for their robes and school supplies, I should already be there._

_See you all soon and for the ones I don't get to see, have a safe year!_

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Attaching the three letters to Bubo Bubo, she sent the owl flying out of her window and watched it disappear into the horizon. She couldn't very well _tell_ Harry in her letter that she had been I contact with Draco Malfoy briefly (before he stopped and he restarted). What if Bubo was a faithful owl and took all three letters back to Malfoy Manor?

It _was_ a Malfoy owl—she wasn't going to risk it.

_.xx._

"Are you sure about staying in Knockturn Alley?" Narcissa poured over her son: straightening his robes, brushing back his hair, rubbing the nonexistent smudge off of his face. Standing on front of their fireplace, Draco tried to pull away from his overbearing mother.

"I'm positive—" _Unless you want to know that I'm going to visit the Muggle-born Bellatrix tried to curse_.

Narcissa seemed saddened that her baby boy was leaving a bit earlier than he had originally intended to but she was in no position to say anything. Besides, Narcissa was unsure of how long it would take Madam Malkin to put the Slytherin crests on Draco's robes.

Kissing his cheek, Narcissa said a few last words of endearment before Draco turned to bid his father farewell. Lucius studied his son for a brief moment: tall, just shy of six feet two inches, moderate length hair that Draco had become fond of leaving naturally tousled, a faint trace of stubble that flitted across his jawline, and the ever piercing icy grey eyes.

"Be safe," was all Lucius said as he clutched onto his serpent cane. "You don't know who still believes the Dark Lord will rise again."

Draco nodded at his father before grabbing a handful of Floo Powder. If there's one thing he came to appreciate, it was most definitely the Floo Network. With one last glance to his parents, he stepped into flame and threw the powder into their fireplace, causing the flame to turn a bright emerald green. In a strong voice, he roared out "KNOCKTURN ALLEY" before the whirlpool that had begun transporting him.

_Here I come, Granger._

_.xx._

Hermione kissed her parents farewell and hauled her trunk out to the curb late into the night. Jean had insisted on staying up and waiting with Hermione but she said that the Knight Bus was more likely to come if Jean weren't watching. Understanding the illogic of the magical world, Jean reluctantly retreated to the house just shy of midnight.

And Hermione was alone.

Sitting down on the curb, she stared her wand, which she had lit up like a flashlight, wondered if the Knight Bus knew that she was waiting for it…

Of course it did.

It went to Harry during their third year, didn't it? _And I'm pretty sure Ron told me that I needed to have my wand out for it to know I'm waiting for it._

Hermione exhaled loudly. What if the Knight Bus didn't come? She'd have to telephone Harry who'd have to owl Ron and both somehow work to get her to Diagon Alley… and she most definitely did not want them there if she and Draco Malfoy were to bump into each other. _Sure they both _know_ he saved my life… but that doesn't mean they still like him._ Hermione thought ruefully._ Ron is under the impression he had an ulterior motive when he jumped in front of the Crucio. Who on earth would have an ulterior motive amazing enough to want to throw themselves in front of an Unforgiveable Curse?_ Hermione was baffled by Ron's theory.

It made no sense.

A loud banging sound broke her out of her reverie and she jumped up, seeing a giant triple-decker bus zooming in from _nowhere_. Eyes widening, she looked in all directions to see if any of the Muggles had heard but—apparently not.

Abruptly, the midnight blue bus came to a halt in front of her and the door flew wide open.

"Aboard the Knight Bus! What's your destination?"

Hermione stared at the shrunken head for a moment before looking back at the bus driver. "Leakey Cauldron…"

"ALL ABOARD!" He roared as he threw himself off the seat and pulled Hermione's trunk, thunking it on each step. Quickly finding a seat, Hermione studied all the passengers on the bus before looking back at the bus driver.

"Are they all headed to the Leakey Cauldron?" She inquired. Instead of the bus driver speaking, the shrunken head did.

"No, mon!" He cackled. "They be headed to all de places in de warld!"

Hermione didn't say anymore but merely gripped her wand tighter. She was aware, just then, that her wand was still lit. "Nox," she murmured, countering the Lumos she had cast earlier. Her heart screeched to a halt when the bus took off and started weaving like a drunk driver. Eyes bugged, she saw the bus go left. Then right. Then left again. And without warning, it squeezed paper thin and managed to go past two busses that were millimeters from each other.

_Harry was definitely not kidding when he said that this bus was the farthest thing from safe._ Hermione thought wildly to herself. She only hoped she'd make it to Diagon Alley _alive_. Hermione almost screamed when the bus went spinning wildly, out of control. The shrunken head was laughing and she was about to throw up—

Finally.

"THE LEAKEY CAULDRON! PASSENGERS PLEASE DISEMBARK!"

Quickly gathering her trunk, Hermione got off the bus. The driver tipped his hat and zoomed off into the distance, leaving a safe and _alive_ Hermione at the doorstep of the magical inn. Pushing the door open, she entered the inn and made it to the counter.

"I have a room booked," she said, "Hermione Granger?"

Tom, the man behind the counter beamed. "THE 'ERMIONE GRANGER? BLIMEY!"

Hermione blushed. She had been getting that a lot from witches and wizards. After the initial shock and the typical _Your room is on the house_ and Hermione arguing against it, she was showed to her room with the bill being at half price.

And any meals eaten at the Leakey Cauldron to be on the house.

_Not planning on eating here anytime soon._ Hermione decided. Unwinding and opening her trunk to find her pyjamas, Hermione could not wait until she fell asleep.

And as much as she _hated_ it, she was _kind_ of excited to see Draco Malfoy.

_.xx._

Lying on a rather spectacular bed in a newly built Inn at Knockturn Alley, Draco Malfoy could do nothing but stare at his ceiling and think about what the _hell_ he was doing. He left his manor, a few days _early_, so he could _possibly_ run into that Mudblood tagalong? Was he fucking _insane_?!

_I must be. Bella's Crucio must've done a number on my head_. He groaned, rubbing his forehead. Turning left, then right, Draco couldn't even being to feel the sign of falling asleep. _Maybe if I went for a walk…_ Grabbing his Malfoy robes and wand, he pulled on his slippers before exiting his room. There was a balcony situated at the far east corner of the Inn that Draco had decided to take over for a short time.

It was just past four in the morning and Draco Malfoy was annoyed. _Why can I not sleep tonight?!_ Maybe if he took a potion? Or a hot shower? Shaking his head, Draco leaned over the railing of the balcony and watched the deserted alleyway beneath him. Borgin and Burkes was just up the street and Diagon Alley not too far from there.

Diagon Alley…

Flourish and Blotts… _Hermione fucking Granger. You need to get out of my damned head!_

Why did she have to send him a thank you letter? Why couldn't she just have accepted his good deed and left it at that?

Why the hell did **he** have to write back to her after he came back from Italy?

Better yet, why the hell did he even _get_ her something from there?!

He banged his head lightly against the railing. _You've lost it, Draco. Officially lost it._

_.xx._

Hermione didn't know what possessed her to wear the Healer Pendant Draco had gotten for her as she carried her enchanted mug out of the Leakey Cauldron and into Diagon Alley. Sipping her morning coffee, she spotted many tiny children running about with the look of excitement evident across their face.

_First years,_ she thought warmly. How long ago _that_ was. She had decided to make a quick stop to Flourish and Blotts (_Come on Hermione, Malfoy shouldn't be in Diagon Alley this early… but the idiot is right, I __**do**__ spend a lot of time there_) to see if the latest edition of Hogwarts: A History had been released yet.

Dodging a few running children and a chicken – _a chicken?!_ – Hermione managed to enter the safety of the bookstore.

Finally.

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione smiled at the shopkeeper. With such a warm welcome, she practically almost felt at home. _Almost_. "Would the newest edition of Hogwarts: A History be available yet?"

"'fraid not love," the shopkeeper smiled sadly. "It ain't 'pose to be out till Set'ember."

Hermione nodded. "Why thank you. I'll just keep looking around."

Sipping from her mug once more, Hermione headed over to the section on _Dragons_—a topic she had been recently interested in. She realized she knew close to _nothing_ about dragons, except when she had briefly studied the Hungarian Horntail during their fourth year at Hogwarts. And that was primarily for Harry as well.

To engrossed with what she was doing, she missed the flash of blond—

"I knew I'd find you here." The voice was familiar; almost a sneer, but could be a smile.

Hermione turned around slowly. "Malfoy!? But… you weren't supposed to come here for another few days!"

He didn't miss the glistening of the pendant around her neck. A surge of pride shot through him—she _wore_ it, which meant she believed, even if it was a little bit, that the pendant wasn't hexed. "I had things to do. I happened to walk by when I saw you come in. Isn't that convenient?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Hardly."

Draco rolled his eyes in return. "Well, it is convenient. Nice pendant by the way, suits you."

Instinctively, Hermione raised her hand and gripped the pendant around her neck. _What if it __**is**__ hexed!? I can't believe I was stupid enough to believ—_

He cut her trail of thought off; he obviously knew what she was thinking. "If you're that scared, I'll wear the damn thing for you all day." Hermione stared at him before doing exactly what he thought she _wasn't_ going to do: unhook the pendant.

"Fine. I'll add a touch of feminism to you," she teased him. She **actually** teased him! Draco scowled as he snatched the pendant and fumbled with it, finally managing to clip the hook. Allowing it to rest against his chest, Hermione couldn't help but notice the feather pendant perhaps made him look manlier than before.

_If possible_.

"I was headed to Madam Malkin's. Care to join me?"

Hermione gawked. "But… you… us… _walking together_?!"

Draco snorted. "Come on Granger; people always talk rubbish, let's give them something to talk about. Besides, you have to keep an eye on this stupid thing, in case I start vomiting slugs."

Narrowing her eyes, Hermione put the book she had grabbed earlier back on the shelf and took a step towards him. "Alright, fine, let's go. I need my measurements for my robes as well."

Smirking, he turned around and led them out of Flourish and Blotts. Hermione simply stared at the back of his head and tried to figure out **what** was happening. _I hope I'm not walking straight into a death trap…_

If that were the case, he would've let Bellatrix Crucio her.

_Could he really have had __**that**__ much of a change of heart?_ Hermione hoped she'd find out the answer soon. Whatever the answer may be.

_.xx._

**This is a very, very special project I'm working on with my best friend, CherryWolf-chan. We're trying to write a story that will be no less than 100 chapters with each chapter being no less than 15 pages.**

**I have NO idea what the heck we've signed up for but… I hope we can do it!**

**Page count: 16  
Word count: 5, 695 (not including authors notes)**

**Hope you enjoy this long story!  
**


	2. A Chase, Down Diagon Alley

_**In the Arms of Her Dragon**_

_"Why're you crying?" Draco whispered, sitting down beside Hermione in a deserted Great Hall. Looking up at him with puffy eyes, she admitted what happened earlier at the Gryffindor Tower. Without a moment's hesitation, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and said: "Come on, you're spending the night in the Slytherin dungeon. With me."_

_.xx._

And attention they drew.

Heads turned, jaws dropped, gasps sounded- Diagon Alley was in complete and utter shock as they witnessed the unthinkable, with their own _eyes._ Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were walking in tandem in a civil fashion. Hermione was casting nervous glances to the people watching them but Draco seemed not to care... at all. He donned his usual superior smirk and strut his usual superior strut.

"I'm still not vomiting slugs, Granger," Draco commented idly as he brushed past two evidently shocked witches. One of them dropped her cauldron filled with textbooks. Hermione smiled faintly at her before turning her attention back to her _companion_.

"No, but you're _definitely_ attracting unwanted attention."

"Correction," he smirked, looking over at her, "_we_ are drawing attention."

Hermione groaned but continued to walk with him with her head held high. Apparently unwanted attention didn't faze Draco Malfoy... _come to think of it, unwanted attention shouldn't bother me either,_ Hermione though sarcastically, _I __am__ best friends with the Boy-Who-Lived_. "How was Italy?" She asked rather suddenly and Draco was caught fairly off guard.

"… fun…" He responded, slowly. They took a left, dodging a few playing children, and continued their trek to Madam Malkin's. The unwanted attention, however, never wavered. "Saw that monument that muggles love so much; the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Did you know that a handful of muggle men built that tower to prove their masculinity to a Clan of Veela's?"

Hermione's eyebrows shot up and Draco snickered, loving how he "knew" something that know-it-all Granger didn't. "Surprised? Why do you think its leaning? It's because the Veela's left and the muggles' inspiration was gone."

Hermione rolled her eyes and sucker-punched Draco. "You're full of rubbish." She muttered, _actually_ believing him for a split-second there. Hermione had never felt stupider. Draco chuckled, his voice a low baritone and the sound of it made Hermione's hair stand on end. It wasn't a feeling she was much familiar with and resented _feeling_ it because of Draco Malfoy's laughter.

"It's not my fault you're utterly gullible, Granger." Draco said that as he lifted the Healer Pendant and deposited it into his mouth, subconsciously sucking on it. Hermione, who had been watching the shops as they trekked to Madam Malkin's, looked over at him to retort but stopped dead. Draco glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. "Hello? We aren't at Malkin's yet... keep walking, Granger."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Get my pendant out of your disgusting mouth."

Draco shot both eyebrows up and crossed his eyes, looking at the pendant in his mouth. Smirking (with it still _in_ his mouth), he looked at Hermione. "But you didn't believe me when I said it wasn't hexed. I guess it's mine now... I'm wearing it."

Hermione's eyes narrowed _further_, if possible. "Malfoy. Give. Me. Back. My. Pendant." Her words were sharp and enunciated. Draco took a step backwards and Hermione, in a rather lethal fashion, took a step forward. "Now."

"Nope."

Draco spun around and began running at full speed as Hermione began chasing him. He whizzed past a wizard walking his enchanted dog that had the legs of a zebra and jumped over a cart of oranges. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Hermione was hot on his tail but because he had longer legs, he was always two paces ahead.

Draco turned his attention back to the path he was running. Unceremoniously, he shoved a middle-aged wizard out of his way and kept running at full speed. He was both surprised and _not_ surprised that Hermione was able to keep up with his speed; she had proven herself in more ways than one during the final battle against Voldemort. He felt the pendant beat against his chest but he no longer paid it any heed. He was caught in the moment of getting away from Hermione Granger.

And more importantly, her wrath.

Hermione's eyes were zoned in and locked on Draco. She felt the blood rushing in her ears and completely forgot about her surroundings—she could only think of one thing: Get Malfoy. Retrieve pendant. Seamlessly, and without thinking, she withdrew her wand from her pocket and pointed at his back: "Accio Malfoy!"

She didn't even _know_ if it'd work, in all honesty. Hermione knew the summoning spell worked on inanimate objects, so it being the first spell to come to mind was surprising. What was also surprising was that Draco Malfoy flew backwards, towards the girl who had summoned him without realizing it.

"Bloody—" Draco's words were cut off as he hurtled into Hermione who flew backwards into a stand of display robes. Grunting in pain, and visibly out of breath, Hermione lay on the floor unmoving as Draco tried to push off of her and the pile of robes that had toppled on top of him. He was unaware of the crowd they had attracted…

Or the thoroughly pissed off Madam Malkin that was glowering dangerously at them.

"Draco Malfoy!" She screeched at the top of her lungs and both Draco and Hermione's eyes snapped to her. Magically (no pun intended), Hermione's out-of-breath had turned into in-breath in a heartbeat. Their eyes were solely trained on the huffing and almost-foaming-at-the-mouth Madam Malkin.

"_What_ are you two **doing**?" She hollered. Draco quickly stood up and dusted off his robes before giving Madam Malkin a charming smile.

"Miss Granger and I had gotten into a slight… disagreement…"

It was Hermione's turn to stand up. "Disagreement?" She accused, pointing a finger at him. "You deposited my pendant into your ungodly mouth!"

"My mouth _is_ Godly, thank you very much." He countered, forgetting that he was standing in front of Madam Malkin and in the middle of a rather thick crowd. Before Hermione could even _think_ of a retort, Madam Malkin had begun shrieking once more.

"Hermione Granger, I'd expect _you_ of all people not to involve yourself with petty arguments… _especially_ with Draco Malfoy." She clicked her tongue and shook her head disapprovingly. "Mister and Missus Weasley would be so disappointed…" Madam Malkin paused. "Come to think of it, so would the plethora of other Weasley's, including the Weasley in-laws and Mr. Harry Potter."

Draco made a sound that was something between a laugh and a snort. That resulted in Madam Malkin and Hermione to glare at him. "Your father would be _very_ disappointed in _you_, Mr. Malfoy."

Hermione grinned smugly at him. "At least I have more people that care enough about me to be _disappointed_."

Draco's eyes flickered to her. "Can it, Granger. I have a whole fucking family _tree_ that's disappointed in me. _In Potter's house_! Your clan of weasels have nothing on me."

"That's **it**_**.**_" Madam Malkin took a step and physically separated two obviously angry magicians. "Miss. Granger, go buy school supplies. Mr. Malfoy, get in to studio four and prepare to have your insignias sewn on. Merlin only knows _why_ I must deal with this; I'm not even a professor at the school!"

As Madam Malkin turned to go back into her store, Draco subtly winked at Hermione before picking up the Healer Pendant and putting it back in his mouth. She fisted her right hand and watched him enter the shop behind Madam Malkin. _You're __**so**__ dead, Malfoy_.

_.xx._

Hermione was kind of glad that Madam Malkin had forced them to separate. She was able to buy textbooks, cauldrons, parchment, other things that probably were not necessary for the success of her final school year, and lastly her robes. When she re-approached Madam Malkin's, she saw that the mess had been cleaned up and that Draco Malfoy was no longer in the shop. Inhaling deeply, she had entered and one of the assistants began taking her measurements almost immediately.

Though she wouldn't admit it, she was slightly disappointed that Draco was nowhere to be seen.

She decided that, since her pendant and frenemy had disappeared, she'd head back to the Leakey Cauldron… probably have something to eat before cracking open a textbook for a bit of light reading

_Who knows,_ she mused, _maybe I'll run into some Gryffindors while I'm mulling around._

_.xx._

Draco couldn't decide if he wanted to buy the parchment laced with gold, or the quill that had a diamond studded stem… both looked good, and the price lived up to his Malfoy expectation… but it seemed too _feminine_.

_Granger might like the quill, though._ He thought without realizing he thought it. Snarling, he shook his head and tried to eliminate any thoughts of her. Who cares if she'd like the quill? She wasn't a Malfoy so it didn't bloody matter!

_But __**I**__ am, _his saintly-half called out, _and __**I**__ could get her things…_

_No._ His less-than-saintly-half countered. _You will not._

Draco decided to remove himself from the diamond-quill situation before his two internal _saints_ made him lose his mind. He didn't know what _possessed_ him to want to buy things for Hermione Granger, but he did. What struck him the most was that regardless of the fact he _wanted_ to buy her things, he actually _did_.

A Slytherin – no, _the_ Slytherin of _all_ Slytherins—was buying _the_ Gryffindor of _all_ Gryffindor _things_. Not just _anything_, things he thought that she might like!

_I think I'm finally getting the side-effects of partaking in the Battle of Hogwarts._ Draco groaned, trying to put a name to the feeling. _Or I lost it after Bellatrix had me under the Unforgiveable Curse._

Yeah, that made sense too.

"You know I've been behind you for five minutes, right?"

Draco whirled around to find a snickering Blaise Zabini. "Bloody hell, mate," Draco's eyes were wide. "Were you trying to give me a heart attack?"

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Something _has_ to be bugging you—you were _actually_ caught off guard! I don't remember the last time you were _ever _caught off guard."

Draco snorted. "I was caught off guard when that stupid Granger punched me in third year." Even talking to _Blaise_ he had to bring up Hermione Granger. Couldn't she just leave his mind alone?!

Blaise, on the other hand, was laughing. "I remember that. Crabbe couldn't stop laughing and Goyle found her attractive for a few good hours."

"He did?" Draco did not know about Goyle's temporary crush on Hermione. "He didn't tell me."

"Didn't want you to blow his brains out," Blaise shrugged and both fell into a step in tandem. "He got over it before the end of the day, though."

"Now _why_ would I blow his brains out?" Draco was definitely planning on blowing Gregory Goyle's brains out.

"Because he found the girl who punched you mildly attractive?" Blaise shrugged. "Why are you asking me and why do you care? This was five years ago, mate."

"Right." _So I have five years' worth of blowing-brains-out to catch up on_. "What're you doing here, anyway?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Same thing you are, buying school supplies. You're here pretty early though."

Draco shrugged as nonchalantly as possible. "Mother and Lucius were getting very emotional with the 'watch out for those who believe the Dark Lord will rise again' rubbish. One more day and I'm sure mother would have pulled me out of Hogwarts and put me at Durmstrang instead."

"Would you complain?"

"Of course not," Draco snorted, "I want to spend the rest of my final year with a load of men and not a single bird in sight."

"You just want your Slytherin sex on."

"Don't you?"

Blaise only shook his head and laughed at his best friend. Draco Malfoy could _not_ be explained with any word in the English vocabulary—he was just something else altogether. Both men were walking in nowhere in particular when Blaise spotted something and nudged Draco, ushering him to look at a small outdoor café. "Draco, isn't that Longbottom and Granger?"

Draco's head whipped in the direction Blaise was pointing and, indeed, he saw Hermione laughing over a mug of Butterbeer with that Longbottom fellow—he had gotten taller and rather muscular over the summer. Draco didn't know why, but he slightly felt… _threatened._

"Guess so," Draco murmured, subconsciously picking up the healer pendant and twirled it between his fingers. "They seem chummy."

"They lived together for eight years; you and Pansy are probably as chummy as they are." Blaise winked and Draco shuddered—everybody knew of Pansy's more-than-obvious crush on Draco Malfoy. She dropped hints any and _everywhere_. In their sixth year, she attempted to concoct a love potion and sneak it into Draco's pumpkin juice. Unfortunately she thought eye of rat was equivalent to eye of mouse and poisoned Draco instead.

Granted she had been _very_ apologetic, Draco had to ingest not-so-scrumptious medicine to _un_poison himself. Madam Pomfrey looked as if she wanted to laugh the week he was confined to the Hospital Wing.

"Pansy and I are just about as chummy as you and Millicent are." Draco snorted as he opted to brush past those two, not making his presence known. He knew Hermione would probably want to poke his eyes out with her wand for putting the pendant in his mouth, but he wasn't going to risk such travesties in broad daylight.

She _did_ say she was staying at the Leakey Cauldron…

.xx.

Draco paid seven sickles to hire a temporary owl to send a letter to Hermione. It was almost midnight and, again, his inner insomniac decided to come out and play. He wrote a letter to Hermione (what possessed him to do it, he didn't know) and hoped she would respond soon.

_Granger,_

_Shall we have a rendezvous?_

_Malfoy_

Within ten minutes her response came.

_Sure. Fourth floor, third window to the right._

That was it. Draco immediately pushed off the balcony railing and threw on his robe, already wondering where the heck a broom would be. Well… he could also apparate onto her balcony, but to do that he had to envision where he wanted to go and he had no idea what her room looked like. Passing a broom cupboard on his way down the corridor, both of his eyebrows shot up.

He loved it when things worked out for him.

Grabbing the first broom he saw, Draco walked back to the balcony and mounted his trusty steed. Within moments he kicked off the ground and shot into the air. His mind was reeling, but most of all he couldn't fight the wondrous feeling of seeing Hermione Granger. Why the hell was he so excited?! He was the one that restarted sending owls to her and he was the one that suggested they meet up at Diagon Alley.

And now he asked if he could go see her.

_Tone it down, Malfoy._ He warned himself. _You threw yourself in front of a Crucio for her and she thanked you. Don't take it any farther than this relationship should go._

But deep inside he knew. He knew he was lying to himself.

There was a reason why he threw himself in front of the Crucio—a reason he wasn't even sure of. But whatever that reason was, it had to be the same one that had Hermione Granger crying for Draco Malfoy.

Crying while cradling him in her arms.

_.xx._

Hermione was doubly shocked when the ugly barn owl dropped a rolled piece of parchment on her stomach as she tossed and turned, trying to sleep. Draco Malfoy had sent her a letter, asking if she wanted to meet up and as much as she wanted to say no, she couldn't.

Any moment now, he would be there.

Pulling on a pair of her capri yoga pants and a baggy white t-shirt, Hermione paced the room, keeping her ears open for the sound of Draco, however he may arrive. The situation that was presented before her was simply unbelievable. In a matter of just months, she and Draco were on speaking terms.

_Friendly_ speaking terms.

A slow smile crept onto her lips. _Watch it, you two are frenemies. Don't let him hear you say friend around him_.

She barely finished warning herself when she heard somebody land on her balcony. Before she could react, Draco walked through the slightly ajar door; his hair was messy and askew from the fly there, and his face blanketed with a look of concentration. His plump lips were pursed and his eyes, stormy grey-blue, landed on Hermione.

"Good evening, Granger." He finally smirked, flicking his wrist and sending his broom (on its own) to stand up against the wall.

"I can see that you were very bored." Hermione crossed her arms in front of her. "Did you want somebody to chase you again?"

Draco rolled his eyes and sat down on her bed. "No, I don't. And yes, I was bored, but you obviously allowed me to come for the same reason I wanted to come."

"And what may that be?"

"You wanted to see me." Draco leaned back and sprawled onto her bed. Hermione gawked at him, her mouth open and her eyes wide in disbelief.

"I wanted to—" And then it clicked, what he just said. _You obviously allowed me to come for the same reason I wanted to come_. A smirk threatened to form on her _wonderful_, wonderful lips. "You wanted to see me, hmm?"

"Your words, not mine." He whispered, his eyes closed. Great, finally sleep caught up to him and that was while he was lying on Granger's bed.

Her bed…

She slept there last night, in probably her underwear.

Or nothing at all…

_Relax. Draco._

"So you came here to sleep?" She asked him and he cracked an eye open. She was just as beautiful upside down as she was right side up. Shaking such blasphemous thoughts from his mind, Draco sat up and turned to look at her.

"Here," he unhooked the pendant from around his neck and held it out to her. "I hope I passed the no-hex test; although you might want to perform some sort of antibacterial spell on it." Playfully he winked at her. Hermione frowned at him and Draco took the opportunity to stand up and approach her.

"Won't you take it?" His eyes were twinkling. Hermione was blown away by the shade; they were the most beautiful colour she'd ever seen. "I bought it _just_ for you, from Italy."

"Why?" He watched her lips move and the thought of kissing it crossed his mind.

Blasphemous, blasphemous thoughts.

"Why else?" Gently, he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. Though she was reluctant, Hermione was compliant. After her back was turned to him, Draco used his right hand to push her hair to the side—"Your hair is soft." He commented and Hermione slightly shifted her head to the right, to look at him.

"Why did you buy it for me?" She repeated as Draco draped the cord around her neck. The cold metal felt refreshing on her skin but Hermione could only feel the warmth seeping from his hands. He wasn't touching her skin, but he may as well be.

"Why did I take Bellatrix's Crucio for you?" He murmured as he locked the clasp. He turned her around but didn't release his hold from her shoulders. "Why did you cry when I fell? Why did you hold me, owl me after? Why did I respond, and after I stopped, why did I start again?"

He picked the charm up; in the process his finger slightly brushed her skin. "Why did I buy it for you?" He whispered. Draco's eyes locked with Hermione's. She was breathing heavily, panting almost. Their proximity was so close, their body heat clashing with each other. Draco was vividly aware of how her chest rose and fell with every inhalation, and how it was affecting _him_. His blood was rushing to areas that he wished to remain unknown. Especially to Granger.

Draco let the pendant drop but the hand that held onto her shoulder remained. "Have lunch with me tomorrow?"

Hermione's eyes widened and her breath hitched.

"Not in the Alley. There's a place just outside from here; nobody there will recognize us right away." His eyes searched hers. Hermione was almost trembling and couldn't speak so, from the lack of her voice, she merely nodded.

At that moment, Draco released her shoulder. "Meet me at Flourish and Blotts, at noon." Taking two steps backed, he held his hand out to where the broom was resting and murmured _Accio broom_. Soundlessly, the broom flew into his hand and, with one final look at the beauty in front of him, Draco turned around and kicked off of her balcony.

It was then Hermione sank to her knees, trying to calm her racing heart.

_What on earth…?_

_.xx._

Hermione didn't sleep the rest of the night. Her mind was reeling with what Draco was doing; possibly planning. Was it safe to have lunch with him at a place where nobody would recognize them at first glance? Was he trying to kill her?

Well, if that were the case, he would've let his aunt do the job at the beginning of the summer.

When morning dawned, she quickly showered and got dressed: a black and blue plaid skirt that landed just at her knees with a yellow blouse, tucked into her skirt. The top button of the blouse was undone, showing off the pendant Draco had gotten her. Grabbing her wand, Hermione tucked it at the belt of her skirt and took off—for some reason, she was excited to see Draco.

Kind of.

Noting the time, Hermione saw that it was close to 11:30 and she knew that Draco would be by Flourish and Blotts soon. Dodging witches and wizards, Hermione slowed to a stop when she arrived at the bookstore. Draco wasn't there, yet, but to her delight and dismay, Ron and Ginny were.

"Hermione!" Ginny hugged her tightly and Hermione was aware of Ron giving her the once over. He was making an obvious point to check her out and by the blush that tinted his cheeks and the sides of his neck, Hermione was sure that he liked what he saw.

Too bad she woke up with the intention of seeing the look on Malfoy's face…

"When did you both get here?" Hermione asked in the most nonchalant voice she could muster up. "Is Harry also here?"

Ron shook his head and Ginny linked her arm through Hermione's. "No." She replied. "He said he got tied up at his Aunt and Uncle's. We got here today though—and _wow_, have you been working out?"

"Yeah…" Ron stuttered. "Have you?"

Hermione could've rolled her eyes but didn't. Ron was so obvious sometimes; throughout their schooling he was on and off about his attraction towards her. When she was 'one of the guys' he wasn't interested in her, but as soon as she showed some leg, he wagged his tongue like a little puppy. "No," She replied smoothly. "I took extra time and effort to dress up today."

Ginny wiggled her eyebrows. "Meeting somebody?"

Hermione giggled. "Gin, you know I'd tell you if I did."

"Better not be a boy!" Ron snarled from the side and Ginny shot her brother a blatantly pissed off look.

"Ron, if she dressed up like _this_ to meet up a girl, I'd assume she'd run around butt naked if it were a male."

Ron gulped and his eyes widened. Hermione laughed, shaking her head in sheer amusement. The Weasley family never failed to amuse her when she was a) distraught or b) nervous. In this case, she was nervous beyond repair.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a flash of blond and idly looked over. Draco Malfoy was watching her, smirking so devilishly handsomely. Dressed in jeans and a black button up shirt, Draco was the epitome of casual. His hands were shoved into his pockets and he was leaned against a light post, successfully hiding in plain sight.

Hermione turned back to her two friends. She heard Ginny say something about Gringotts before nudging her and saying: "You coming, Hermione?"

Taken back for a moment, Hermione didn't know what else to say except _sure_. She couldn't very well tell her friends that she was going to have a lunch date with their arch nemesis; sure, Ginny was aware of what Draco did and was thankful for it, but Ron still hated it.

Again, Hermione couldn't understand _who_ would have an ulterior motive to throw themselves in front of a Crucio.

As Ginny dragged Hermione off, she glanced over her shoulder to find Draco rub his nose gently before pushing off of the post and walking off. Her heart sank—

Could she have disappointed him?

_.xx._

After a long day of being dragged around by the Weasley siblings (along with Neville and Seamus), Hermione couldn't have been more excited to enter her inn room and flop onto the bed. Although she had loads of fun, catching up with her friends about what happened during the summer, she was disappointed that she couldn't spend _some_ time with Draco.

Perhaps it was for the best. Her fingers wrapped around the healer pendant as she stared at herself in the mirror. Her reflection watched her: hair pulled back into a ponytail and her outfit still looking impeccable. Silly her, the one day she put real effort into her attire, she was shopping for school supplies with her friends.

_Curb your enthusiasm,_ she scolded herself. _Remember, he's a Slytherin. A really good looking, nice smelling, lifesaving evil Slytherin_.

Engrossed in her thoughts, Hermione failed to hear the balcony door open.

"Short skirt looks good on you, Granger."

Whirling around, Hermione came face to face with the man occupying her thoughts: Draco Malfoy. Frozen on the spot she drank him in. He was still in his jeans and t-shirt, except his shirt was now half untucked, his hair an unruly mess, and his smirk wider than ever. "What if somebody saw you?" She blurted out and Draco rolled his eyes.

"Granger, Granger. Have faith." Taking two steps forward, Draco pulled his wand out of his back pocket and flicked it. In an instant, the entire room rearranged to fit a picnic blanket and basket smack centre of the room. "Since you were preoccupied for lunch, I thought I'd bring lunch to us."

Hermione's eyes were wide.

"A picnic?" She breathed and Draco's smirk widened.

"A picnic. I promise I haven't poisoned anything," his eyes twinkled, "unless you want me to try everything _first_ and then wait an hour to see if I keel over."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Shut up, Malfoy. I learned my lesson after not trusting you with the pendant."

"I can put it back in my mouth, you know."

"I'd rather you not."

Draco chuckled and moved to take a seat. Slowly, Hermione followed but made sure to fold her legs back, to hide any views Draco may possibly have. Slowly, he opened the picnic basket and pulled out sweeties, and neatly cut sandwiches, and just about anything else that was picnic appropriate. Hermione was in complete awe…

"When did you have time to learn all this?"

Draco shrugged as he unwrapped a sandwich. "After the bridge was formed between wizards and muggles, I had a lot of research to do during the summer."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "So you learned how to make sandwiches?"

Draco snorted. "Really, Granger? My _mother_ learned how to make sandwiches. I just stood idly by and watched."

"What a sweetie," Hermione winked before biting into an unwrapped sandwich. Draco watched her expectantly and was thoroughly relieved when she leaned back and grinned, complimenting him for a sandwich-well-done.

"You are a chef, Mr. Malfoy." She commended and he puffed his chest out in pride.

"I'm a Malfoy." He stated as if it was the ultimate skill of all skills: Malfoy. Hermione threw her disposed plastic wrap at him and Draco slapped it to the side with his wand.

"Well I'm a Granger," She stated, "I feel as if we're at equal with the Malfoys."

"I'd crack a muggle joke right now if this conversation was a year ago."

"This conversation wouldn't be happening between us a year ago." Hermione stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Touché," Draco nodded before digging into a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavoured Beans. He cringed when he tasted an ash flavoured one. Spitting it out as fast as he put it in his mouth, Draco pondered on _who_ thought of which flavours to put into the box.

"They aren't _every_ flavoured beans for nothing." Hermione stated. "I wouldn't be surprised if there was a bean with the essence of Malfoy."

"I would," Draco had that familiar teasing twinkle in his eye. "I'd wonder who had the guts to sneak up on Lucius as he was sleeping to extract his essence."

"Right, because your father would wake up and shriek like a sissy girl."

Draco shrugged. "He could. I wouldn't put it past him," he lowered his voice and leaned forward. "But don't tell him, he's the big bad Death Eater, remember."

Hermione zipped her lips. "I wouldn't dream of telling anybody."

They both shared a laugh and resumed eating. It was quaint and Hermione had to admit, she was having more fun spending lunch with Draco than she did running around Diagon Alley with her fellow Gryffindor classmates. Perhaps it had to do with the invisible bond that the two had forged?

Or maybe it was because of all the unanswered questions between them, questions that Draco had posed earlier.

Hermione was the one that brought up topics of conversation, but to Draco's credit he put in an effort to keep the conversations going. They talked about their second year basilisk encounter, and when she punched him for their third year. Draco stated that it still hurt and Hermione, without thinking, offered to kiss it better.

Draco's wink was followed by a chocolate frog being thrown to his head.

The meal wrapped up nicely and Draco made it disappear with a swish of his wand. Hermione _walked_ him to her balcony and they stood, just inside the French doors, for a moment longer.

"Thanks," she said, the awkwardness finally setting in. "It was fun."

Draco nodded. "Yep. Blaise is in Diagon Alley, and so are your friends. Meeting up will be difficult, Granger, so I'll see you at Hogwarts."

Why did her heart fall when she heard him say that?

"Yeah," she murmured. As Draco was preparing to mount the broom, she caught his arm and turned him to fully face her. Without warning, she wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged him, tightly. Draco was taken off guard but quickly recovered and put his arms around her shoulders, returning her embrace.

The sizzle of electricity was undeniable between them. The hug lasted a full ten seconds before Hermione pulled back, smiling. "You're squishy."

His face fell. "No I'm not! I'm all steel!"

She poked his belly. "Nah, there's a little pudge there, Malfoy."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "I hope you're joking right now."

Ah, but she was. His chest was nothing more than a frame of utter masculinity. She could feel his abs burn through his shirt when they hugged. And his arms? She had never felt safer… which was ironic because she felt the safest in the arms of who would appear to be the "enemy."

She cracked the pudgy joke to keep herself from blushing entirely too much.

"I dunno, Malfoy," she wiggled her eyebrows. Draco scowled.

"See you at Hogwarts." He repeated before kicking off and shooting into the sky. She watched him fly off before sinking to the ground and clutching her chest. Her heart was beating a mile a minute and the butterflies in her stomach were going crazy.

As much as she tried to convince herself that what she was feeling was just survivor-gratitude, she knew that she was lying.

What she was feeling was _much_ more than just survivor-gratitude.

_.xx._

**Words: 5, 358**

**Pages: 15**

**Thank you to all who have reviewed! 48 reviews in just one chapter, AMAZING!**


	3. Intruder Aboard Hogwarts Express

**_In the Arms of Her Dragon_**

_"Why're you crying?" Draco whispered, sitting down beside Hermione in a deserted Great Hall. Looking up at him with puffy eyes, she admitted what happened earlier at the Gryffindor Tower. Without a moment's hesitation, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and said: "Come on, you're spending the night in the Slytherin dungeon. With me."_

_.xx._

Hermione had decided that she wouldn't be telling Harry, Ron, or any of her other friends about her and Draco's relationship (what would she say to them anyway? _Hey guys, Draco Malfoy and I are frenemies now!_... right…). Based on the scope of it and how the two acted towards each other, she figured it would be for the best if she kept the information a secret for the time being. Standing at Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Hermione stood in line to receive a kiss goodbye from Molly Weasley. Subconsciously, she was sucking on the Healer Pendant.

She hadn't even put an antibacterial charm on yet either.

Yuck.

Remembering how it was in Malfoy's mouth not too long ago, Hermione spat it out it out immediately.

"How much do I have to pay you to help me pass my NEWTs?" Ron asked from behind her. Hermione glanced over her shoulder and raised both eyebrows in sheer amusement.

"You weren't prepared from last year?"

Ron gave her an incredulous look. "Prepared?! All I was prepared for was to blast off Voldemort's head. What the bloody hell were _you_ prepared for?"

"Blasting off Voldemort's head _and_ our NEWTs." Hermione replied, smugly.

Before Ron could retort, it was Hermione's turn to receive affection from Molly. Enduring the cheek pinching and smothering, Hermione only smiled through it. She knew if her mother had the ability to enter the realm of Platform Nine and Three Quarters, she'd probably do the same thing Molly was doing then.

"And since there are no evils lurking around, please do keep the boys in check." Molly leaned forward so only Hermione could hear her. "Harry and Ron must pass their NEWTs. Make sure they don't spend too much time at the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes."

Hermione nodded, knowing that what Molly said was more than true. She joined Ginny, Harry, Fred and George off to the side as Molly fawned over her last son, Ronald. Hermione was still amused at how Fred and George received permission from Headmistress McGonagall to board the Hogwarts Express. Apparently, the twins had made a deal with McGonagall; Fred and George decided that they'd take the summer off from their business to spend time with the family. So, come September, when it was time to return, the twins could ride the Hogwarts Express to Hogsmeade if and _only_ if they did not sell any _bad_ jokey items to the Hogwarts students.

But when did Fred and George ever follow the rules.

"Mum putting you in charge again?" The twins asked simultaneously and Hermione nodded, sheepishly. Ginny snickered.

"You'll make a great mother, Mia." Ginny commented and Hermione rolled her eyes in response.

"Yeah, if I don't have kids like Harry and Ron."

"What's wrong with us?" Harry enquired as he watched, from the corner of his eye, Molly bestow Ron with a plethora of kisses. Snickering, he turned his full attention back to Hermione.

"You and Ron always came up with clever ideas to get us killed," Hermione's eyes glinted with mock anger. "Or worse… expelled."

"You need to sort out your priorities." Ron commented as he finally joined the group. Molly had finally finished _showing_ her children (and surrogate children in the cases of Hermione and Harry) how much she loved them. Before Hermione could come up with a witty retort, the whistle blew indicating that the Hogwarts Express was now boarding. With a final hug to Molly, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred and George boarded the crimson train that they were so familiar with.

_.xx._

The Golden Trio snagged a compartment all for themselves as Ginny went to sit with a few girls from her own year. Ron had gotten comfortable, lying down on one side of the compartment as Harry and Hermione were on the other side, staring at Ron incredulously.

"You _just_ woke up three hours ago, Ron." Hermione shook her head and Ron cracked open an eye, to look at her.

"You can never get enough sleep," he argued. "Besides, with _you_, Harry and I will have numerous sleepless nights _studying_."

Hermione harrumphed and chose not to speak to Ron for the remainder of the train ride. Way to be appreciative. Harry chuckled and shook his head. "It's going to be a dull year."

"Let's resurrect Voldemort just so we can have an eventful year, hm?" Ron said from his sleepy state. In the background the rumble of thunder sounded. Not long after the train departed from the platform, it had begun raining really hard. Lightning flashed through the sky every so often, and was always followed by the deafening roar of thunder.

"I still find it amusing how you defeated the all-powerful Dark Lord with a disarming spell we learned in second year." Hermione grinned and Harry howled in laughter. The Gryffindors, post-Voldemort, had a running joke of how the Slytherins, who _always_ advocated blood supremacy, followed a half-blooded wizard who eventually was defeated with an Expelliarmus.

"I'm sure if we used Wingardium Leviosa, it would've worked like a _charm_." Ron murmured as he was on the cusp of sleep.

Hermione groaned and Harry snickered. "You're so _punny_." Harry shot back and Hermione slapped his arm.

"You two are not at _all_ being humorous right now," she muttered. Both boys stared at her and she bit her lower lip before adding a small: "Okay, maybe it was _kind_ of funny."

There was a cackle and a voice reverberated throughout the train: "_Attention students! Lunch will be served shortly after the Treat Trolley makes its round. Today we are serving chicken shepherd's pie with jacket potatoes and baby carrot sticks. Hogwarts Express will arrive at the station at eighteen-hundred hours_."

"Sheppard's pie?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Well isn't that a notch up."

"Maybe they're sucking up to the Boy Who Lived." Ron mumbled, his eyes still closed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Shepard's pie isn't exactly sucking up material, Ronald."

"Don't call me that."

Their compartment door flew open and the Golden Trio turned, thinking it was the Treat Trolley. Not surprisingly, it wasn't—instead of the plump little woman that sold treats on the Hogwarts Express, it was Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, in their Hogwarts robes. They had pulled the hoods over their heads and sauntered into the compartment, all three of them simultaneously saying: "Ohhhh! I'm a Dementor!"

"Bugger off," Ron muttered, sitting up.

Snickering, Draco pulled his hood off and was followed by Vincent and Gregory. Hermione shook her head, she was clearly not amused.

"Are you going to faint, Potter?" Draco crossed his arms in front of him.

"You are such a prick." Harry mumbled. "You'd think after _everything_ all of us have been through, you'd give it up."

Ceremoniously, Draco sat down between Harry and Hermione. Vincent and Gregory took their places, sandwiching Ron between them. "Come on, Potter. Lighten up; we were only having a little fun."

"Your definition of fun is parallel to Ron and Harry's," Hermione mumbled and Draco side glanced at her. His eyes fell on the pendant resting against her chest and he smirked, languidly. Reaching over, he picked up the piece of jewelry.

Immediately, Hermione looked alarmed.

"Nice pendant you got there, Granger." He said in his usual _better than thou_ voice. "Looks like a rare Healer Pendant. You know they're native to Italy… particularly Sicily?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't know." She said slowly. "I found a street peddler selling it at Diagon Alley."

Draco's eyes flashed in amusement. "Street peddler? My, oh my… I wonder where this… _peddler_ could have ever gotten such a rare artifact."

"Leave her and her pendant alone," Ron called. "You can be such a prat."

Draco chose to ignore him. His eyes trailed up from the pendant and locked with Hermione's eyes. They shared an unspoken conversation: Harry and Ron didn't know about their frenemy relationship and Hermione would like to keep it that way. Pulling back, Draco let go of Hermione's pendant and slouched into the cushiony seat.

"So, how was everyone's summer?"

Hermione groaned. "You boys bond, I'll be back from the little witch's room."

"Don't you mean the little mudblood's room?" Vincent called as she stood up to leave the compartment. As Hermione froze, and before Ron or Harry could react, Draco pulled Crabbe up by the scruff of his collar and stared at him, lethally.

"We stopped using that word in sixth year," He whispered, his voice nothing short of deadly. "I hear you use it again and you _will_ be sorry."

Vincent looked terribly afraid and Ron and Harry's jaws dropped. Gregory was looking between his two friends and wonder _what the bloody Mary was going on_. Hermione didn't even turn around; she quickly pulled the door open and made a quick escape. Though she was furious over the comment Vincent Crabbe had made, her heart was racing uncontrollably over what Draco Malfoy had done.

Picking up the Healer Pendant, she put it in her mouth and sucked on it… subconsciously of course.

Draco Malfoy: saved her from the Crucio and defended her honour.

He was her knight in shining armour—_More like knight in black robes with shiny blond hair._ Hermione amended, inwardly laughing. Her mind shifted over to how her two best friends were reacting to Draco's outburst. She wished she could stay to see the aftermath but she had to get out of there.

Even if it was eight years later, that term hurt like a knife cutting into her heart.

_.xx._

Shortly after Hermione left the compartment, so did Draco; he instructed Crabbe and Goyle not to follow him. Harry, Ron, Vincent and Gregory were all sitting awkwardly last Draco saw but he didn't care. They could bond and become best friends and he wouldn't give two flying pumpkins. He used the excuse of having to take a leak but he knew that they knew he was probably going after Hermione.

_Way to keep a low profile, Malfoy._ He sneered at himself. He had to stop being so obvious of his _un_hatred for Hermione Granger. Even though, after the Battle of Hogwarts and after Voldemort's defeat, all the houses had called a truce, the Slytherins still acted _slightly_ more powerful than the other three houses. It wasn't to say that they were downright terrible to the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors. They just _acted_ like they were better.

But the house truce wasn't enough of a reason for Draco Malfoy to go check up on Hermione Granger.

So why did he?

No matter how many times he asked himself questions of such manner, he always knew the answer would be the same.

_Same reason you threw yourself in front of a Crucio for her._

So why? _Why did I do it?_

_.xx._

Hermione was waiting patiently in front of the washroom. Somebody was in there and Hermione had no idea how long she'd be in there for. Her own bladder was almost full and she needed to release her urine immediately. Leaning against the wall, Hermione stared at the washroom door and thought back to what Draco said just moments ago.

The boy just never ceased to surprise her.

Hermione frowned as she saw a glowing underneath the crack of the washroom door. "What the—"

Within _seconds_ a loud alarm sounded and the train screeched to a halt.

"Intruder alert! Intruder alert! Initiating lockdown in three-"

Hermione's eyes widened.

"Two-"

She all but screamed when she felt somebody grab her arm and pull her into an empty train compartment before shutting the door.

"One."

The lights went out and a click was heard and the train compartment was locked by the conductor. "Attention students: there is an intruder on the train. I repeat there is an intruder on the train. All compartments, including washrooms have been locked. We will resume and unlock when the Aurors and Ministry arrive. I repeat: there is an intruder on the train. Every compartment is locked."

Hermione, in a heartbeat, pulled out her wand. Because of the lights going out and the darkness of the weather outside, the compartment was as dark as night. "Lumos." She hissed. As soon as her wand lit up, she saw the illuminated face of a rather concerned looking Draco Malfoy. "Malfoy?! Why the bloody hell did you drag me into an empty compartment for?"

"A 'thank you' would suffice." He said stiffly.

"What on earth were you doing following me?" She paused, re-evaluated what she said, and looked sheepish. "I mean… thanks." She looked away from him. "For what you did back at the compartment and… for now."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Goodness, Granger, you'd think the earth would split in half and swallow you for being polite. But, because I'm a nice fellow, I accept your gratitude." Draco watched Hermione's expression change from shy, to confused, to annoyance.

"You're such a tool," she muttered. "So there's an intruder on the train? And how were you _right_ there when the alarm went off?"

It was Draco's turn to look uncomfortable. He crossed his arms, in an attempt to keep some sort of dignity, and revealed to Hermione that he went to check up on her after what Vincent said.

"Wouldn't want you drowning yourself out of misery. The toilet is pretty deep." He added, to save face.

Hermione smiled warmly at him. "Thanks… you're a good frenemy."

"I try," he murmured.

And then there was silence. Awkward, uncomfortable silence. Hermione set her wand down beside her, still illuminated. Draco watched her and she tried to look anywhere but him. His lips curled up slowly: "Your hair looks nice."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Thanks?"

"Not the bird's nest you used to have when we were younger."

Hermione snorted. "What a classic Malfoy compliment."

"Well it is." He said, winking at her. Hermione was going to retort with the roar of thunder shut her up and made her jump. Her head immediately shot to look outside the window; it was foggy and unclear due to the rain. Draco immediately picked up on her discomfort and sat up straight.

"Does the thunder scare you?"

She looked at him as if he had grown a third eye. "Scare? No. Thunderstorms just don't correlate to positive memories for me." She looked away from him. "The Dementors attacked the train during weather like this."

Draco _knew_ that there was more to her thunderstorm fear than just the Dementors making Potter faint and scream like a sissy girl during their third year. But _what_ was the reason behind her fear was not his primary concern. His top priority was to comfort Granger.

He would ask himself why, but he knew the answer.

The answer was always the same.

Wordlessly, he got up and sat down beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders in the process. Hermione was stiff for a moment before relaxing and melting into his hold. Her heart was beating a mile a minute; she swore it would pop out of her ribcage at any given moment. His index finger was drawing little circles on her shoulder and his head was resting against the back of the seat.

"Thanks," she murmured. He glanced down at her.

"I only did it so I can throw you at a Dementor more easily should they arrive."

She rolled her eyes. "A 'you're welcome' would suffice." She was mocking him and he knew it. Draco chuckled and she felt his chest rumble against her. Her heart began racing even faster, if that was humanly possible.

"You're welcome, Granger."

And again, they fell into silence. This time, however, it was comfortable and warming.

Welcoming, even.

Hermione didn't know when, but she fell asleep being held by Draco Malfoy. And Draco didn't know why, but when he was sure she fell asleep, he gently leaned forward and kissed her head, just at her hairline. "Sleep tight," he whispered, "Granger."

_.xx._

Draco succumbed to the treacherous sleep as well. Hermione had, at one point, shifted so that her arm wrapped around his torso and he simply tightened his hold around her shoulders. When the train had resumed moving and when the compartments were unlocked were beyond Draco and Hermione.

Thankfully, he woke up just moments prior to the train pulling into the station at Hogsmeade. Grunting, he sat up straight and cracked his neck. He looked down at Hermione and counted, _slowly_, to one hundred in his head before waking her up. He figured she could use an extra minute or two of shut-eye.

"Granger," he called gently, shaking her slightly. "Hey, Granger."

She merely nestled in closer to him as he tried to wake her. "What is it, Draco?"

His heart stopped beating and his eyes wide. It was the first time she called him by his first name since _ever_. Although she was still half asleep and probably unaware of what she was doing, the effect on Draco was the same as it would've been should she have been awake.

"We're almost at the village…" He murmured, trying to keep his voice steady. Yawning, jaw-splittingly, Hermione moved away from him and rubbed her eyes before realizing what he said.

"We're here?!" She stood up. "Oh no! I haven't changed… and we fell asleep?! What are Harry and Ron going to say when they find out why I didn't return to the compartment? And who was the intruder?!"

"You still have sixteen questions left out of twenty," he muttered dryly, standing up. "Tell them our compartment didn't unlock. Honestly, Granger, you'd think after owling me all summer you'd pick up on some Slytherin virtues."

Hermione snorted in a rather unladylike fashion. Draco raised an eyebrow at her but she waved him off. "You may be a sweetie _sometimes_, Malfoy," he hid the wince when he heard her call him by his last name again. He would revel in the _Draco_ for as long as his memory would serve him.

"But you're still annoying."

"Remind me of that next time I comfort you during a thunder storm."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "There won't be a next time."

He merely winked at her before sliding the compartment door open. "I'll remind _you_ of that when next time _actually_ happens." Before she could reply, he left.

_The nerve of the man._

_.xx._

Hermione used the excuse Draco told her to use: their compartment didn't unlock until the train arrived at the station. Ron and Harry seemed to accept her story, saying that their compartment was one of the last ones to unlock.

Harry also told Hermione that it was Rita Skeeter that was found to be the intruder. She snuck into the train as her beetle form and the moment she transformed, the intruder sensor on the train picked up on it. Hermione realized, at that moment, that the glowing light she saw under the washroom door was probably Skeeter transforming into her human self. According to Ron, the Aurors dragged her off, kicking and screaming.

The students of Hogwarts assembled into the Great Hall and sat down at their respective tables. Hermione quickly reacquainted herself with her many friends and found herself squished between Neville and Dean.

"Have you seen Trevor?" Neville asked and the group of eighth years burst into laughter.

"Still?" Seamus shook his head. "Nev, give it up."

"But…"

Hermione put a comforting hand on his arm. "Trevor will show up. He always does."

Neville, though evidently distraught, smiled. "Yeah…"

The Great Hall was abuzz with chitter chatter in all corners. Draco hugged his good female friend, Tracey Davis, tightly. "Had a good summer, Trace?"

Tracey shrugged. "More or less. Theodore was a pain in my royal behind though."

In the beginning of seventh year, Theodore Nott and Tracey Davis had become an official couple. Most of the Slytherins called them T-squared. Blaise, as inappropriate and dirty as it was, called them "tity," both in reference to their initials and the slang American term for breasts.

Draco claimed he had too much respect for Tracey as a sister to degrade her name as such. Theodore, on the other hand, he didn't care much about. At that point, Theodore hit his arm, _hard_, and Draco said Tracey hit harder than him.

Of course, all was in good humour.

"Attention!" Minerva McGonagall bellowed as she stood at the podium many students were accustomed to seeing Dumbledore stand behind. "Attention everyone!"

Slowly, the Great Hall quieted down. Draco sat beside Blaise and Theo and sipped on some provided pumpkin juice. Across the room, he saw Hermione laugh at something Neville Longbottom say and felt a funny sensation in the pit of his stomach. It was the same feeling he had when he saw them have lunch together at Diagon Alley.

_Why are you overreacting?_ He asked himself. _She's just a friend. NO! A _frenemy_._

"Another year, another adventure," McGonagall started. "Many of you recall the tragedies of early this summer—Voldemort has been defeated and all peace is now restored to both the wizard and muggle worlds. Our hearts are forever with those who were sacrifices in this war for peace. May we have a moment of silence to respect our peers and loved ones."

Almost at once all of the students' heads bowed for a minute to respect their friends that they lost in the many wars they partook in early in the summer. Hermione had her hands clasped in front of her, sending a prayer for all the friends they lost. Draco simply prayed for his family. He prayed for the lost members and the members who were reconciling, mainly the Malfoys, Lestranges, and Blacks.

After the moment was complete, McGonagall continued. "For this year, the first to seventh years will proceed as usual. Our eighth years, and primary survivors from the war," she bowed her head to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, "will be enrolled in special classes designed just for them. Because they have the knowledge of the untaught Dark Arts, their classes will help them hone and master these techniques. The eighth years will graduate exactly a week before the seventh years."

There were some murmurs exchanged and McGonagall allowed them to converse for a moment before silencing the students. "And now, Madam Hooch, please file in the first years and the Sorting Hat."

Hermione clapped her hands in glee as a group of tiny first years entered the Great Hall. They all looked appropriately nervous and, not surprisingly, a few pointed over to the Gryffindor table and made comments on how Harry Potter is sitting somewhere there and how he defeated You-Know-Who. After the first years were all settled, McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on a stool and, within seconds, it came to life.

"_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy woggy Hogwarts,  
Your lights shine bright; enlightening young minds of yonder.  
I sing this song, to welcome our students,  
And give them something to ponder…"_

"That wasn't very rhyme-y," Ron nudged Harry who nodded.

"He lost his touch."

Hermione glared at them both. "Hush, both of you!"

Ron and Harry snickered. "Yes mum." They responded simultaneously and Hermione chose to ignore them.

"_Meeting at the horizon,  
The sky and the sea.  
A dragon, born from the lion's den;  
One,  
Out of three."_

Hermione immediately snapped her head to her two best friends. "Is it prophesizing?" She hissed and Harry shrugged his attention on full alert. If there was anything that they learned over the past seven years, it was that the Sorting Hat never sang a song _for the sake_ of it

"_Salazar's soul, two parts of a whole.  
Godric's gift; the spirit of a snake it lifts.  
Rowena and Helga, by the sides-  
Soon, they'll change the tide._

_Can the horizon split?  
The sea run away?  
Can the sun burn out?  
Or are they here to stay?_

_Another year,  
Another beginning.  
A union is born,  
Between a dragon  
And his lady,  
And so ends my song."_

The poem-y song ended and the Great Hall paused before applauding slowly. Hermione only shook her head when Ron gave her a questioning look. 'No idea,' she mouthed and turned her attention to McGonagall who placed the hat on the first student.

Despite Voldemort being defeated and a promising year ahead, the Golden Trio knew that _something_ was going to happen.

Something to do with the sun, the sea… and a dragon…

_.xx._

Hermione lay on her four-poster bed, sharing a room with the girls she _always_ did: Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, Fay Dunbar, Kellah Morris. Kellah and Fay were doing each other's nails and Parvati wondered off to reacquaint herself with some of the other Gryffindors. Lavender had already fallen asleep.

Hermione lay awake reading a novel she brought from home, The Road by Cormac McCarthy. Her mother recommended it to her a while ago and Hermione decided that instead of reading it over the summer, she'd pack it and read it at Hogwarts whenever she had time or was bored.

An irritating tapping came from the window and her eyes widened recognizing Bubo Bubo. Kellah frowned, "What the heck is an owl doing here?"

Hermione threw her book down and went to pull the window open. She stroked Bubo's head before retrieving the roll of parchment from him and letting him into the girls dormitory. Fay raised an eyebrow and asked whose owl that was and Hermione told her that it was _just a friend_.

_Hello Granger,_

_Surprised? Good, that was my intention. I wanted to inform you that the events of today will not be repeated. I cannot tarnish my reputation as the Slytherin Prince._

_That is all._

_D.M._

Hermione snorted and quickly pulled out her own parchment.

_Malfoy,_

_Some nerve, hmm? You can _tell_ me that you owl'd me because you missed me. You don't need to put up an act. But don't worry, I won't tell the whole school that you are the sweetest boy I've ever met. Who knows, perhaps the next time there's a thunder storm, you'll comfort Pansy Parkinson._

_Best wishes,_

_H.G._

Within five minutes, Hermione received a response. Kellah simply rolled her eyes and continued drawing butterflies on Fay's toenails.

_Granger,_

_You have got to be kidding me. Me? Miss YOU? I'm laughing right now and I'm sure you can hear me up at the Gryffindor Tower. That's about as likely as me comforting _you_ during a thunderous storm in a stalled Hogwarts Express._

Hermione raised an eyebrow. _He just told me he missed me…_ she mused.

_And now I have dirty images of me hugging Parkinson. Thanks a lot, Granger. _

_D.M_

Hermione decided to keep her letter short and to the point.

_Malfoy,_

_Is this why you owl'd me? To be an annoyance?_

_H.G._

Draco, who was lying on a couch in the Slytherin Dungeon, saw Bubo Bubo fly in through the open wall. Purposely, Draco did not shut the wall that separated the Slytherin common room with the dungeons only so that Bubo Bubo could fly in without any qualms. After all, the dungeons _were_ located under water.

_Granger,_

_Yes,_

_D.M._

Two could play that game was Draco's mentality when he responded. Hermione, on the other hand, was amused to no end.

_Malfoy,_

_You're an annoyance._

_H.G._

Draco shook his head and scribbled his response down before sending Bubo Bubo away again.

_Granger,_

_Yet you still reply._

_D.M._

Hermione let Bubo sit on her shoulder as she stared at Draco's recent letter. Fay and Kellah began ignoring Hermione and she was glad—they asked a few times who she was owling but they got the hint after she _never responded_.

_Malfoy,_

_It is polite to respond to those you consider a friend, or a frenemy in your case. However, it is getting late now and I will be falling asleep. Will see you in class tomorrow._

_Yours,_

_H.G._

Within two minutes Bubo came back with a rolled up parchment. Grunting in annoyance, Hermione opened the window and before she realized what happened, Bubo Bubo dropped the parchment and flew off. Hermione was dumbfounded. "So he doesn't want a response?" She mumbled to herself as she picked up the letter.

Going back to her bed, Hermione got comfortable and slowly unrolled the parchment. She was wondering _what_ Draco Malfoy could possibly want to say that he didn't want a response for.

_Granger,_

_Fine. I did miss you._

_Sleep tight,_

_Draco_

_.xx._

**Chapter stats:**

**Words: 4, 736 (not including author's notes)  
Pages: 15**

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Chapters: 2**

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**ALSO: If ANYBODY has any idea that they want to pitch in, GO AHEAD! This story will be 100 chapters long so the more ideas I can gather, the better. If there is ANYTHING you guys would like to see happen, shoot me ideas. This includes particular scenes, certain character interactions, perhaps even a BAD GUY! **


	4. Alternative Means of Communication

**_In the Arms of Her Dragon_**

_"Why're you crying?" Draco whispered, sitting down beside Hermione in a deserted Great Hall. Looking up at him with puffy eyes, she admitted what happened earlier at the Gryffindor Tower. Without a moment's hesitation, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and said: "Come on, you're spending the night in the Slytherin dungeon. With me."_

_.xx._

Bright and early, the handful of eighth year students piled into McGonagall's classroom and prepared themselves for a brutal year of Transfiguration. Unfortunatly for them, all of their classes (Transfiguration, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Divination, Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, and a brand new class specific to the eighth years, Unforgiveable and Illegal Spells) were all NEWT levels and were chosen _for_ them. While the seventh years had the choice of which electives to take and which NEWTs to write, the eighth years did not.

Ron had said something about receiving 'special treatment' for defeating Voldemort. Harry said that they might as well relearn and master the Expelliarmus, since it _was_ the spell that destroyed the once revered Dark Lord. Another running joke among the Gryffindors was that the disarming spell was probably the _worst_ spell known to wizardkind. Even stronger than the Avada Kedavra.

"Now," McGonagall didn't even dawdle to begin her lesson. She jumped right into it. "Transfiguration has many rules that the Ministry has set to maintain peace and order. Though it is simplistic in technique, there are dire consequences if it was conducted without care."

Hermione, who was sitting between Fay Dunbar and Harry Potter, was leaning on the palm of her right hand and watching McGonagall intently. She was acutely aware of the head of silvery blond hair sitting at the third table to the right, beside Blaise Zabini. Hermione was sitting at the fourth table to the left, close enough to Draco Malfoy.

Ron was lingering at the back of the classroom with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. Apparently he had no intention of passing NEWT level Transfiguration.

Apparently, neither did Seamus nor Dean. Parvati was sitting with her sister, Padma, in the row behind Harry, Fay, and Hermione and the rest of the eighth year students were scattered throughout the room.

"We have received special permission from Kingsley Shacklebot to practice techniques that center around the Dark Arts," McGonagall's gaze darkened. "They should _never_ be used unless it is a life or death circumstance. Failure to follow this rule will result in imprisonment, or in some cases, removal of magic and erasing of memory."

Adrian Pucey whistled low, indicating that the consequences _were_ severe. McGonagall shot him a glare that clearly translated to _shut up_.

"We will use the first three months of the year to learn and master the art of human transfiguration—" collective gasps were heard and Ron coughed.

"Ferret!"

The Gryffindors giggled and Draco glanced over his shoulder, shooting Ron a lethal glare. Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry slapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing. McGonagall scowled.

"Mr. Weasley. That was in _no_ way appropriate. I'm afraid I have to deduct ten points from Gryffindor house."

Ron twitched. It was so like Minerva McGonagall to deduct points from her own house. Sometimes Ron wished that McGonagall was more like Severus Snape—he _never_ deducted points from Slytherin and if he _did_, it'd probably be three points for _not paying attention_.

Snape was a little snake like that.

"There are only three students in this class familiar with the transfiguration of human beings," McGonagall nodded her head to those three students. "It was supposed to be taught for your sixth year but due to unforeseen circumstances, as you remember, the curriculum was changed. So, to begin with, we will learn how to conduct human transfiguration into inanimate object, self-transfiguration, and finally, human transfiguration to an animate object both third-party and self." McGonagall glanced around the class before naming the three students that knew human transfiguration to the fullest. "The three experts are: Hermione Granger of Gryffindor, Draco Malfoy of Slytherin, and Luna Lovegood of Ravenclaw."

All eyes snapped to Draco—_he knew human transfiguration?!_

"Didn't your mother's ever teach you that staring is rude?" Draco snapped, not loving the unwanted attention. Hermione wanted to snort at him; granted she was surprised he knew human transfiguration, but it wasn't unnatural. He was deemed Slytherin Prince very early on and Hermione wouldn't put it past Lucius Malfoy to teach his son some of the not-so-legal tricks of the trade.

McGonagall tapped her podium with her wand. "I would like Ms. Granger and Mr. Malfoy to come up here and both display how human transfiguration is done."

Hermione gulped and stood up rigidly. She saw Draco stand up too, in a languid fashion, and wanted to throw something at his head. Even when he was put on the spot he was as cool as a cucumber. Walking up to the podium, she stood beside Draco and could practically _feel_ the heat emitting off of his body.

"Ms. Granger, will you go first?" McGonagall asked and Hermione nodded. Clearing her throat, she pulled her wand out of her robe and turned to face Draco. He merely raised his perfect blond eyebrow as she raised her wand to eye level, her expression monotonous.

"Humana ad ictis!" A shot of purple blasted out of Hermione's wand and came in contact with Draco. Immediately, his body morphed into a tiny, blond ferret. The _entire_ classroom, Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw alike, burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Even McGonagall chuckled under her breath. The little Draco ferret blatantly glared up at Hermione as McGonagall and the aforementioned witch stared down at him. "I'll give Gryffindor ten points if you can get Mr. Malfoy to smile." McGonagall stated.

Hermione bit her bottom lip and the entire class leaned forward in anticipation. "Well," Hermione glanced around the room. "I never wanted to admit it but… Draco Malfoy _has_ to be the _best_ looking man in _all_ of Hogwarts. He's also the most gorgeous man I've ever laid eyes on—wizard and muggle alike."

Indeed, as Hermione predicted, the ferret smirked. Hermione squealed and jumped up and down as McGonagall awarded their house ten points. Reversing the transfiguration, the ferret morphed back into Draco Malfoy. His arms were crossed, his eyebrows furrowed, but his lips were smirking. "Real original, Granger. Real bloody original."

Hermione shrugged. "I know; I get points for creativity. The good looking stuff though," she leaned forward, "I lied."

Draco's eyes widened and Ron howled in laughter. McGonagall rubbed her temples; no matter how many points she deducted from Ronald Weasley, he _never_ learned.

"Ronald Weasley. One more outburst from you and I will have you in detention until you _graduate_!"

Crabbe and Goyle burst into laughter that was louder than Ron's and McGonagall deducted ten points from Slytherin each. Harry leaned over to Fay. "Do they ever learn?"

She giggled. "Don't think so."

"Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall nodded to him. "Your turn."

Puffing his chest out, Draco held his wand out and changed: "Humana ad castor!"

A shot of silver came out of his wand and enveloped Hermione. Within a heartbeat, she morphed into an oversized beaver with larger than life buckteeth. The Slytherins laughed and Pansy Parkinson made a point to snort really loudly. Beaver Hermione bore her buckteeth and McGonagall sighed, wondering _why_ she asked those two to demonstrate. Why didn't she call upon Luna and Hermione?!

"Alright, Mr. Malfoy, if you can make Ms. Granger smile, I'll award Slytherin ten points."

Draco frowned, wondering what he could say to Granger that could _possibly_ get her to smile. "Umm… Granger is the beautifulest woman ever?"

The beaver hissed and Harry twitched. "Malfoy, beautifulest is not a word in the English vocabulary."

"Can it, Potter."

"You're failing, Mr. Malfoy." McGonagall was amused. She knew that Hermione was a stubborn one but she wondered how she could fare against Draco Malfoy trying to get her to smile. McGonagall had half the thought that Draco might just pick up the beaver and tickle her.

"Granger is _so_ smart… even smarter than _I_!"

"You're terrible at giving compliments," Padma called. "You'd think the Prince of Slytherin had _tact_."

Malfoy languidly gazed at her. "I only lack when it comes to Granger. The woman is insufferable."

The beaver hissed again.

"You aren't getting her to smile with insults," Susan Bones murmured, chewing on her thumb. The eighth years were rather glad that McGonagall wasn't as anal with them as she was years prior. Perhaps it had to do with that the fact that they were mature _and_ war survivors. In any case, this little game of "points" would never have happened even the previous year.

Granted, there _was_ no previous school year for any of them.

"Bloody hell," Draco snarled. "I give up! Castor ad Granger!" Before their eyes, Hermione morphed back into her humanoid self. She glared at Draco before, suddenly, bursting into laughter. Draco's gaze darkened.

"Really, Granger?! You couldn't have done that _two_ seconds prior?"

Hermione was holding her sides and, her laughter being contagious, the three houses save Slytherin also burst into peals of laughter. "You. Really. Can't. Compliment!" Hermione said through breaths. McGonagall rubbed her temples—she thought for students that saw death purely because some magicians wanted to _kill_ would be a lot more sombre.

Not her eighth years, that was for sure.

"Settle down, Ms. Granger. Return to your seats promptly."

As Hermione strode past Draco to get to her seat, he pinched her arm. Yelping, she glared at him over her shoulder and he merely gave her an innocent smile.

_Watch out,_ she mouthed and he rolled his eyes.

Being frenemies with Granger wasn't all _that_ bad. Draco seemed to enjoy it.

_.xx._

"We're getting the day off to go to Hogsmeade Village tomorrow," Kellah called from her position on her bed. Lavender was curling her hair with Hermione's curling iron—she wanted to do it the muggle way. Fay was watching Lavender and Parvati was _attempting_ to brush Hermione's hair, of course, the muggle way. Sometimes they didn't want to use magic; they used it every day for the past eight years and really, they needed a break.

"Really?" Hermione frowned. "Why? It was only the first day today."

Parvati stopped brushing Hermione's hair to comment. "I think it's because we have double potions tomorrow and Professor Snape is sick."

Fay cringed. "Ugh, NEWT Potions…"

"It's so unfair we're being forced to write our NEWTs." Kellah muttered. "I mean Hermione and Harry could become Aurors _without_ having five Es. They were the top players at the Battle of Hogwarts."

"I do _not_ want to be an Auror," Hermione snorted. "Do I look like I want to chase bad guys for the rest of my life? Seven years was enough."

The girls laughed at Hermione's outburst. They thought she enjoyed playing cops and robbers but apparently not. She did have a point though, after having found horcruxes and defeating Voldemort, Hermione Granger needed to retire from bad-guy hunting.

"What do you want to be then?"

"Well, I want to see if I can beat the Defense Against the Dark Arts curse," she grinned. "I would love to try and be the _only_ DADA professor that survives for more than _one_ year."

"_Really_?" Fay rolled her eyes. "Leave it to Hermione to want to be an _actual_ Professor here. Wasn't eight years of this rubbish enough for you?"

Hermione shook her head and Parvati pulled on her hair. "Stop moving, Hermione!"

"Apart from being a professor, I know Gringotts is looking for somebody who could possibly be an ambassador to the muggles to advertise muggle aspects of the bank," Hermione shrugged. "Since I am muggle-born, the position appealed to me."

"Anything to get away from chasing bad guys, huh?"

Hermione laughed. "Yep. Ron wants to be a Quidditch player, Harry an Auror, and me? Anything that hasn't to do with flying or bad guys."

"Imagine," Kelleh's eyes twinkled, "Hermione in one of those muggle pencil skirts with her hair in a bun."

Parvati squealed. "Oh, yes! With a see through blouse—_and _a black bra!"

Hermione deadpanned. "I am not a sexual object."

"Doesn't mean that you can't look sexy." Fay beamed as Lavender nodded. Hermione wanted to retort but there was a tap at their tower window. All the girls looked over to find a small scrawny owl.

_Bubo Bubo_! Hermione shoved Parvati and went to open the window, letting the owl in and grabbing the rolled parchment that was attached to him. Fay asked who it was from and Kellah answered for Hermione.

"Probably the unnamed friend. I'm telling you, Granger, if it's a boy and you haven't told _us_, I _will_ hurt you."

Hermione told Parvati that she could finish brushing her hair later and the south-Indian girl merely rolled her eyes. She decided to play a match of wizard chess with Kellah. Getting comfortable on her four-poster bed, Hermione unrolled the parchment as Bubo Bubo perched on her shoulder.

_Granger,_

_You're clever, hm? Turning me into a ferret? If we weren't frenemies, I would've done something terribly nasty, like turn you into an oversized beaver._

Hermione rolled her eyes, he was such a riot.

_Snape is ill, as you probably know, and tomorrow's classes have been cancelled. The Slytherins are headed to Hogsmeade for the day and I am sure your faux-courageous friends are as well. Knowing you, you are probably going to be spending the day in the Library, the restricted section, shelf number four, probably on a section to do with dragons?_

Hermione's eyes widened. _How did he…know?_

_I'm a mind reader._ He wrote next. _Well, I also seem to remember that you were in the section on Dragons at Flourish and Blotts at Diagon Alley. You can say that I am a very observant male character, along with my charming personality and rugged good looks._

She wanted to snort.

_What I wanted to ask was that if you'd possibly like to grab some butterbeer with me? Perhaps discuss what is appropriate or not in regards to morphing one another into animals. I think if you turned me into a King Cobra, it would've done me some justice. Who knows? Perhaps I would have transformed you into a lion._

"No you wouldn't," she muttered.

_Actually, I probably wouldn't._

Hermione giggled.

_Let me know, I suppose. I don't want to run around Hogsmeade, especially with Pansy and Millicent. On another note, this letter writing rubbish hurts my wrist. I can't afford to bruise my perfect hand._

_D.M._

Hermione grabbed a piece of parchment and proceeded to write down her response.

_Malfoy,_

_Your letters never cease to amuse me. You should've seen the ferret coming, though, it's classic… _anybody_ would've done it and I'm sure Luna Lovegood would have as well. The girls and I were just talking about tomorrow's day off; all of the eighth years are going to be going down to the village._

_However _how_ are we supposed to have butterbeer if all of our classmates are going to be in and out of the pub? Your plan has a fatal flaw, Malfoy._

_You are right about the letter writing thing, though. No, not about your "perfect" wrist, more like it is painful to write letters after letters. Perhaps there could be an alternative?_

_Well, surprise me tomorrow… we will see what you are capable of._

_H.G._

She sent Bubo flying out the window and quickly gathered her things. Hermione told the girls that she would be headed to the library. Kellah snorted saying that _of course_ Hermione would be headed to the library. It was classic Hermione.

Hermione laughed along with the other girls. What they didn't need to know was that she wasn't _actually_ going to the library to study.

She was going to the library to figure out if she could do something about what Malfoy had mentioned…

Something about making their correspondence easier.

_.xx._

It wasn't quite lights out yet but Hermione was the only one in the library. She figured as much, nobody else would be there on the _first_ day of school. She had books spread across a table and she was leaning over a particular book that talked about magical engravings into jewelry and enchanting parchment. The idea seemed appealing and she wanted to know more about the topic…

"Really, Granger?"

Her heart jumped and she looked up to see Draco standing on the other side of the table, dressed in jeans and a button up black silk dress shirt. Hermione chose not to acknowledge that she noticed the top two buttons were undone, giving her a glimpse of his near perfectly sculpted chest.

"How did you know I was here?" She tried to sound calm but she knew her voice was shaking.

"Bubo came back with the letter I wrote in response to you," he shrugged as if it were the most natural thing. He pulled out a chair and plopped down, rather carelessly. "I figured it was because he didn't know where to find you, and the only place _that _is, is the library."

"You're rather creepish and have stalkeresque qualities about you." Hermione muttered and she turned her attention back to the book before her. She heard Draco snicker and, without warning, the book in front of her was pulled away.

"Malfoy!"

"I want to know what you're reading."

Hermione snarled and crossed her arms in front of her. Draco did a quick once over of the page and nodded, returning it back to her. "Enchanted parchment sounds good."

"I was aiming towards the jewelry," Hermione muttered. "I don't want to have to carry a piece of parchment around _all_ the time. It would seem rather strange if I pulled this crumpled up sheet from my robes every now and then."

Draco snickered. "Touché, Granger."

"How about both?" Hermione's eyes locked with his. It never ceased to amaze her at how wonderfully _gray_ his eyes were. They were unnatural and complimented his hair perfectly. His hair, unlike the previous year when it was long and combed over, was shorter and spiked. The style of his hair seemed to give it a certain brown tint, but the blazing platinum blond was still recognizable.

"Both?"

Hermione nodded, flipping through some pages in the book. "Parchment for when we're in class… jewelry for when we're not?"

"I'm not a woman."

"Merlin, I'm not giving you a nose ring, Malfoy." Hermione snorted. "Perhaps a necklace? Or a bracelet?"

"A bracelet is feminine."

Hermione scowled. "Well tough luck. I'll figure something out and you're _going_ to appreciate it. Understood?"

Draco merely shook his head. "You're pushy, Granger."

"It's in my blood."

He raised both eyebrows and she made it a point to look away from him and back at the book in front of her. In the distance, Draco heard a clock ticking… one second, two, three seconds, four.

Five.

Six…

"Let's have a picnic in the Astronomy Tower tomorrow." He said suddenly and Hermione's head shot up.

"Come again?"

"For butterbeer," he amended, "we'll set up a picnic like we did at the Leakey Cauldron."

Hermione crossed her arms in front of her, unaware that Draco's eyes immediately locked with her breasts. Were they always that big? Draco had a sudden desire to see if they were perfectly sized to cup…

_Draconis Lucius Malfoy!_ He scolded in his head, hoping to somehow hear his mother. She always managed to turn him off from deeds that were illegitimately attractive. _Do not fantasize about grabbing Granger's breasts. They are off limits. Remember, frenemies. Shall I spell it out? F – R – E- N – E- M – I –E – S!_

"Do you really think I'd go to the Astronomy Tower with you?"

"And why not?"

"You only take girls up there to get into their robes."

Draco grinned. "So? Don't wear robes tomorrow then."

"Malfoy!"

"Fine, fine," he held his hands up in surrender. "I won't try to get into your robe slash pants slash skirt… whatever you choose to wear."

"Malfoy…" She said warningly. Draco knew that tone; it was a typical _woman_ tone. He heard his mother use it plenty times with his father and the outcome of anything said _after_ that tone was not good. Knowing that he had to maintain his honour, he slouched in his seat.

"Fine. Since all of our classmates are going to be at Hogsmeade, and the other students in class, let's have a picnic at the Quidditch field."

Hermione's eyes widened before she grinned. "That sounds lovely. Wow, Malfoy, you really are a romantic."

He waved his hand and Hermione noted how his biceps rippled beneath his shirt. When did he get so built? He was fifty times more attractive than what Hermione remembered. He definitely seemed a lot more built than when she saw him at Diagon Alley less than a _week_ ago.

"Like what you see?" He smirked as he noted that she zoned in on his biceps.

"No." She said curtly. He knew she was lying.

"Well," he rubbed his left bicep and Hermione wanted to laugh at him. What a narcissist. "After _somebody_ said I was pudgy, I decided I'd prove her wrong."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Pudg—you _listened_ to me!?"

"Why the hell not?" He asked, as if her question was so preposterous. "When somebody calls me _fat_, I have to take it seriously."

"Merlin, Malfoy you are _not_ fat. If you were morbidly obese, trust me I'd tell you. All you have are some love handles around your midsection." Hermione was _so_ lying. She clearly remembered the distinct feel of his abs against her. All she wanted to do was run her fingers down the length of his chest and—

_Hermione! Control yourself! _Her inner nun scolded. _This is Draco Malfoy you're thinking of!_

"Love handles, hmm?"

Hermione threw a small book at his head, which he caught with expert ease. "You know what I meant."

"You're such a prude," he laughed. "You blush at _anything_ related to sexual intercourse."

"Malfoy!" She hissed. "Don't use such language in the library."

"Or what? The books will be influenced by my horrible language?" He loved watching her morph into a mood of extreme anger. Her eyes narrowed considerably and Hermione did a certain sniffy thing with her nose that, for some reason, Draco found to be rather irresistible.

"I'll… I'll… I'll hex you!"

Draco was _highly_ amused. "Hex me?"

Hermione nodded, trying to keep a serious expression on her face but she was failing miserably. Draco stood up, strode over to where Hermione was, pushed her chair back and leaned forward. His nose was practically touching hers. Hermione resisted the temptation, but her eyes glanced down to see into his shirt—at his perfectly, irresistibly, sculpted chest.

"Yes," she hated how she squeaked. "I will."

"Would you… Stupefy me?" Her eyes were locked with his. "Tarantallegra, Rictusempra, Petrificus Totalus, or Impedimenta?"

Hermione brought her eyes up to lock with his. "What would you prefer?" Her voice was croaky, almost a whisper. Draco brought his right hand up to brush some of her hair off of her face and then proceeded to pick the pendant off of her neck. He held it in the palm of his hand; his fingers were mere millimeters away from her skin.

"Hexing is so _violent_," he murmured, playing with the pendant but still so irresistibly close to Hermione. "You could not have me use vulgar language in another way."

"What other ways are there?"

He leaned forward even more, tilting his head to the left. Hermione's heart was beating against her chest with such a force; she thought it was going to pop out. It looked like he was going to kiss her! The feeling she had mirrored what she felt at the Leakey Cauldron when he put the pendant on her.

"You know…"

She gulped. "I don't…"

Why wasn't she stopping him? She didn't _want_ to stop him, that was what it was. To be so physically close to Draco Malfoy was nerve-wracking and she didn't want it to stop. Before she realized her mouth was even moving, she whispered his name: "Draco…?"

His eyes flashed and he let go of the pendant, bringing his hand up and curling it around her neck. Hermione's eyes dropped to his lips and her brain stopped functioning altogether.

"There are _loads_ of other ways to shut me up," his voice was husky, "_Hermione_."

The butterflies in her stomach went crazy and she could practically _taste_ Draco. He was so close and as much as she knew it was wrong, she _wanted_ to kiss him.

"HERMIONE?! You in here!?"

Harry's voice resonated through the library and Draco snapped back. Hermione's eyes were wide, as if she saw a ghost—scratch that, as if she saw Peeves doing the Macarena. Shoving his hands into his pocket, Draco muttered something about _stupid fucking Pot-Head_, before winking at Hermione and strutting off. Within _seconds_, Harry entered the area she was sitting.

"Hey! Lavender said I would find you here… You alright?" He peered at her closely. Hermione could only nod while attempting to have her heart beat at a regular pace again.

"You sure? You look kind of… pink…"

"I'm fine," she squeaked, her voice eight octaves higher. Harry frowned and put his hand to her forehead, to see if she had a temperature. She _felt_ fine, but she sure wasn't acting it.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded again. "Yes," her voice was returning to normal. "I am. Sorry, what did you need? I was doing some homework."

Harry frowned. She wasn't telling him something but he would let it drop—for now. "Well I was wondering if you wanted to visit Fluffy over the weekend. Hagrid's bringing some lamb chops down and well… wanna come?"

Hermione glanced over her shoulder and saw Draco's shadow hovering between the bookshelves. She turned back to Harry.

"Sure… uh… when?"

"This… weekend…" Harry repeated, slowly. "Are you _sure_ you're okay?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, yes. Peeves took me by surprise a little while ago, that's all."

"Did he pull a prank?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. He just screamed in my ear and flew off."

Harry chuckled. "Sounds like something Peeves would do. Well, have fun studying… on the first day Mione." He gave her a tight hug before leave the library. Hermione slouched in her seat and tried to catch her breath. That had to be the scariest situation she'd ever experienced.

Even scarier than facing Voldemort.

As she tried to get her breathing back in rhythm, Draco snuck up behind her and yelled in her ear. "PEEVES!"

"HOLY!" Hermione jumped a foot in the air before using a book to smack Draco, who was rolling on the floor with laughter. He wiped tears from his eyes and all Hermione could do was glare at him with as much force as she could muster up.

"You're a prat, Malfoy."

Draco composed himself but still chuckled at random. "Your expression was priceless. See, I turned your lie into the truth. Peeves," he used finger quotation marks to surround the poltergeist's name, "scared you."

"I seriously _will _hex you." Hermione muttered. "I'll Petrificus Totalus you before casting the Rictusempra."

"Scary," he wiggled his fingers as if he were a ghost.

Pointedly ignoring him, she turned back to what she was trying to research: finding alternative means of communication. Draco stood there and watched her; he knew she was trying her damned hardest to ignore him.

"You know," he shoved her. "I'd _love_ a necklace."

She glanced over her shoulder. "I'll keep that in mind. Now, if you could care to stop talking to me." She turned back to her book. "I need to figure out a way to talk to you without owling."

Draco raised an eyebrow, bemused. "You want me to stop talking to you so you can figure out how to talk to me?"

"Yes."

"Only you Granger."

"Yes, yes," she waved, "only me. Now, leave?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Granger, it's almost lights out. Let's go."

Hermione looked up at him. "Are you offering to walk me back to the tower?" She couldn't help but raise both eyebrows when he nodded. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Now." He waved his wand and all of the books were neatly put away and stacked in a pile. "Are you checking these books out?"

Hermione could only blink before scowling at him. "I didn't bookmark the page I was on!"

"I did, nerd." Draco snorted. "Don't worry, you can go back to your dormitory and resume reading in peace but I'll make sure you _get_ back there_ safely_. You never know when Peeves is going to scream loudly in your ear."

Hermione gave him _the look_. "You're more dangerous to my sanity than Peeves is."

"I'll take that as a compliment. So, let's go." Using his wand to float her books over to him, he grabbed the stack and began escorting Hermione out of the library. She didn't know what to _say_: Draco Malfoy was carrying her books!

Their walk was comfortable and silent. They made comments about the castle every now and then but chose to make their journey in quietness. They were at the corridor that led to the Fat Lady portrait when Draco stopped them both. "If that pig sees me, she'll shriek."

Hermione laughed. "She would. Thanks for walking me." Draco nodded and handed her books to her. When he made sure Hermione had a grip on everything, he swiftly leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

"Anytime," he murmured before pulling back. "Hermione."

Her eyes were wide and her jaw agape as Hermione Granger watched Draco Malfoy's retreating figure.

_.xx._

**Words: 4, 924  
Pages: 15  
Favourites: 175  
Alerts: 357  
**

**In this chapter you saw where the story diverges from the actual books. While it is known that Hermione, Harry and Ron were all practitioners of human transfiguration and that it was actually **_**taught**_** during their sixth year, I changed it up slightly. Transfiguration was **_**not**_** taught during their sixth year and the only practitioners amongst the eighth year students are Draco, Hermione, and Luna.**

**Also, LOVE the ideas being suggested. I already have written down which ones I am using (quite a lot) and I would love if the ideas kept pouring in. I don't have a bad guy yet for the story so if anybody has good bad guy suggestions, lay them at me.**

**ENCHANTED JEWELRY IDEA: raerob4ever  
ENCHANTED PARCHMENT IDEA: siriuslymrsmalfoy  
**

**Thank you BOTH for you splendid ideas!  
**


	5. The Method behind the Marauders

**_In the Arms of Her Dragon_**

_"Why're you crying?" Draco whispered, sitting down beside Hermione in a deserted Great Hall. Looking up at him with puffy eyes, she admitted what happened earlier at the Gryffindor Tower. Without a moment's hesitation, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and said: "Come on, you're spending the night in the Slytherin dungeon. With me."_

_.xx._

"You're really not coming?" Harry asked as he and the other eighth years were getting ready to head out to the village. Hermione, who was still dressed in her pajama pants and a tank top, was sitting on the couch with a couple of books and a steaming hot mug of coffee (she had _somehow_ gotten it delivered to the Common Room thanks to a house elf. How, or why, nobody knew or wanted to know).

Hermione nodded. "I have work to do. When _all_ of you come begging me for help when it's time for our NEWTs, I want to be prepared."

"Lass has a valid point," Seamus winked. Hermione laughed and simply rolled her eyes.

"Come _on_, Hermione." Ron whined. Hermione shot him a curt look that clearly said _be quiet, Ronald. You know you're going to be the first one in line to ask for my help._

"If Hermione wants to study, let her," Fay sighed. "When's the last time _any_ of us convinced her to do anything in place of studying?"

The eighth years murmured at how Fay had a point and they wouldn't be able to tear Hermione away from her books. They bade her farewell, the girls and Harry gave her a hug and Ron awkwardly patted her head. Even eight years and many near-death experiences later, Ronald Weasley was still as awkward as ever.

The group of eighth years left the portrait and Hermione saw a glimpse of the Hufflepuff eighth years and a few Ravenclaw eighth years as well. Luna Lovegood, who was _supposed_ to be a seventh year, was granted permission to take the classes the eighth years were taking because she had been a big part of the war. As such she was regarded as an eighth year instead of a seventh.

With a final wave courtesy of Kellah, the portrait door shut and Hermione was left in solitude in the Gryffindor common room. She heard soft giggling and glanced to her left to see a few first years descending from their dormitory.

"Morning, Hermione," one of the girls smiled and Hermione returned the greeting.

"Headed to class?" The eighth year war-hero inquired and the girl who greeted her – Hermione recalled her name was Antoinette – nodded.

"Yes, we have flying lessons today with Madam Hooch." Antoinette said, her bubbly personality shining. Her two friends beside her were grinning ear-to-ear, evidently excited about their first flying lesson. Hermione knew that the petit blond beside Antoinette (Casey? Was that the name the Sorting Hat called when he summoned her?) was muggle-born just like her.

Hermione was also getting ready to bust some balls if the little girl came back to the common room, crying, because some nasty Slytherins were badgering her. Though the Slytherins fifth year and up had given up on the blood supremacy ideology, _some_ of the younger ones still asserted their faux power.

"Flying is fun… well, so say Ron and Harry." Hermione cringed. "I've never been to fond if flying."

Antoinette's eyes widened. "Really? My father gave me flying lessons before I received my letter in August, I had _a lot_ of fun."

Casey cringed. "Flying seems _scary_."

Hermione laughed. "Well, I have to concur with you there. If you guys want, I can ask Ron and Harry to give you some lessons: you know the Seeker and the Keeper of the Gryffindor team…"

Antoinette blushed; she _so_ had a crush on either Ron or Harry. Hermione made it a personal mission to figure out who it was. Casey still seemed unsure and the third girl (whose name Hermione did not know) squealed with giddy delight. "Ron!? _The_ Ronald Weasley? Oh please, oh please, oh please can you have him give me a lesson?"

"June, shut up." Antoinette scolded. "Don't seem desperate."

Hermione laughed. "Oh don't worry. There've been a lot of girls throughout the years that wanted _lessons_ from one or the other. Tell you what, let me know how your lessons go and right before Harry holds try-outs for the Quidditch team, I'll ask them to give you girls a lesson… and anyone else if they're interested."

Antoinette threw her arms around Hermione. "You're awesome, Hermione."

"Tell me something I don't know," Hermione laughed as she returned the hug. Casey and June exchanged excited glances and thanked Hermione before the three young girls departed from the common room. Shortly after they left, the two remaining Gryffindor first year girls and the seven first year boys made it through the common room. They were all heading to flying lessons.

Finally, after peace and quiet embraced Hermione, she began to look through a few books that spoke about enchanted jewelry and parchment.

_Parchment paper is one of the greatest assets to the Wizarding World. Unlike your wand, which depends on your technique and skill, parchment paper can be manipulated to do what you want, whenever you want it to. Parchment is used for various things: note-taking, book-writing, diary-keeping and so on. We, however, will not focus on any of that but rather on the more useful uses of parchment paper… to conduct __mischief_.

Hermione's eyes widened as her eyes zoned in on the word 'mischief_._' Why did that word seem so familiar…

_As students, mischief is the one thing that they wish to conduct. Students, be it first year or seventh, want to be up to entirely _no_ good and wish to have no record of what they did after they've managed their mischief_.

Hermione's eyes bugged as she slammed the book shut and took a good look at the authors.

_The Method behind the Marauders  
By: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs_

"No _way_," Hermione breathed as she ran her fingers over the authors' names. "They wrote a _book_ on how they made the Marauder's Map?"

A familiar tap sounded through the common room and Hermione saw Bubo Bubo staying afloat just outside the window. Carefully putting the book down, she hurried over and slid the window open, allowing Bubo Bubo to fly in. He dropped the letter and perched on top of the fireplace. Picking up the rolled paper, Hermione made her way to Bubo and stroked him just under the chin. As much as she did not want to admit it, the flying rat was growing on her.

_Granger,_

_Quidditch field. Noon._

_Be there._

_D.M._

Hermione snorted. "Way to ask me, Malfoy."

_P.S: Don't get snooty. I asked you yesterday and you said yes._

Hermione raised both eyebrows. "Oh… kay…" Folding up the letter, she shoved it into her pajama back-pocket and quickly gathered up her books. Whistling once, Hermione ushered for Bubo to come over and he did, perching comfortably on her shoulder. Making her way up to the dormitory, Hermione decided to get changed and put her books away before going to meet up with Mister Draco Malfoy.

Bubo Bubo stayed on Hermione's shoulder, happily hooting. He was probably trying to start conversation so Hermione decided to humour him: "I know, Malfoy is a tool."

The owl hooted twice and Hermione figured that he concurred with her. "Hm, I like you Bubo."

The owl gently pecked her head. Hermione laughed, he probably kissed her.

_.xx._

Dressed in a plaid skirt and a white blouse, Hermione made her way to the Quidditch pitch to find a checkered red and white blanket laid out on the center of the field. Atop the blanket was a picnic basket and Draco Malfoy (sporting jeans, a red t-shirt and a blazer to complete his ensemble). As Hermione approached him, Draco glanced over his shoulder and smirked.

"Before you ask, _don't_ ask. A Malfoy never reveals his secret."

That stopped Hermione from asking him _how_ he knew that she was going to react to him not _asking_ her to come to the Quidditch field. Instead, she asked him how he knew she was going to ask him how he knew that she reacted to him not _asking_, but rather _telling_, her to come to the Quidditch field.

Her head hurt; sometimes she didn't even make sense to herself.

"Like I said," he patted the blanket beside him, "a Malfoy never reveals his secret."

"Right." Hermione muttered, thinking how what he said was a mantra that muggle magicians repeated over and over again.

As Hermione got comfortable, Draco opened the picnic basket and pulled out all the treats that he packed: chocolate frogs, Bertie Botts Every Flavoured Beans, sandwiches, juice, _salad_… and much more. Hermione could only gawk as he pulled out everything and _anything_ possible from the basket.

"Did you charm it to be a limitless basket?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "No, Granger, I'm just incredibly good at packing things."

Hermione picked up a cucumber sandwich. "And you're apparently really good at making finger food as well."

He scowled. "Mother and I had a lot of picnics growing up, alright? Lucius was never home and we had to do _something_ with our spare time."

In all her eight years of knowing Draco Malfoy, he _never_ voluntarily spoke of him and his mother. Hermione's heart jumped and she decided not to spend too much time on the story that he had just told her. Draco was never comfortable with speaking about his family and she didn't want to badger him for _more_ stories.

"Well I like it so far," She grinned. Draco rolled his eyes as he finally pulled out two bottles of Butterbeer. Opening the tops (which were un-twistable), Draco passed one to Hermione and they clinked their bottles in midair.

"To another bloody year of school."

Hermione snorted. "To friendship."

"Frenemyship." Draco amended and they drank to it. After taking her first sip, Hermione set her bottle down and picked up a small sandwich.

"So, how long is this frenemy thing going to last?"

Draco shrugged. "Until I decide we're friends?"

Hermione snorted. "Until _you_ decide we're _friends_? We're picnicking and you're buying me things… I think we've graduated to friendship."

"Not yet."

Hermione merely rolled her eyes and took another swig of her Butterbeer. "Well then, my dear sweet frenemy, what is going to be _so_ different from frenemyship if and _when_ we're friends? Snog?"

Draco had a glint in his eyes. Oh, those beautiful stormy gray eyes…

"Snogging would make us _good_ friends. I don't think we're ready for that yet."

Hermione almost snorted out her Butterbeer, as she was taking a sip when he spoke. "_Really_? And shagging would make us _best_ friends, I presume?"

"You aren't the smartest witch of our time for nothing." He winked and Hermione groaned.

"So, going with your friendship hierarchy, what would constitute that we're dating?"

Draco chewed on his sandwich slowly, taking his time to come up with an answer. "Well… I would get down on one knee and propose to you to be my girlfriend. What else would I do, Granger?"

Hermione couldn't help but gawk. "And… engagement…?"

"Well if I _told_ you, it wouldn't be a surprise." And he _surprised_ her by winking and leaning forward to quickly place a kiss on her cheek. "Now stop overthinking, bookworm, and enjoy the picnic."

And all of a sudden, Hermione was one hundred percent sure that bookworm was his new pet name for her. _Great._ At least she could call him ferret, but that would be too unoriginal. She'd think of something.

"Did you get far in your research?" He asked and Hermione nodded.

"I did, actually. I'm figuring out a way to password protect the parchment so only _we_ can read what we wrote." Draco studied her and nodded, as if he approved.

"Sort of like that Marauder's thing that Potter has?"

Hermione frowned. "You _know_ about it?"

"Remember Snape confiscated it?" Draco saw Hermione slowly nod. "Well, at a family dinner not too long ago, he was complaining on how the stupid thing was insulting him."

Hermione smiled at the memory. "Good times…"

"Can we have it insult Weasel if he tries to read it?"

Hermione shot him a glare. "No."

"We can have it insult Pansy if she tries to read it, too!"

"Malfoy, you may not be fond of Pansy, but I am _very_ fond of Ron and I will not have a piece of parchment insult my best friend."

Draco scoffed. "Fine. You're no fun anyway."

"What a baby." Hermione rolled her eyes. Draco shot her a playful glare before leaning back on his arms. He stretched his legs out and watched Hermione, who was sitting comfortably beside him.

"This sure beats Hogsmeade," He finally said and Hermione nodded in agreement. "Who wants to run around a pathetic village that we've been to more than a thousand times in the past five years or so."

"Your sarcasm amazes me."

"I'm not being sarcastic, Granger."

"Of course you weren't," she grinned, "Because _I_ was."

Draco couldn't help but smile. Hermione put the empty bottle down and leaned back herself, now looking at the boy sitting beside her. "So," she finally said. Draco saw the Healer Pendant was resting nicely on the bulge of her breasts. Why was it that every damn time he saw the girl she was ten times more beautiful than she was the _previous_ time he saw her.

There had to be _some_ form of magic involve.

There _had_ to be.

"That was a great picnic." Hermione offered. She was acutely aware of how the wind was ruffling Draco's hair, how his blazer fit him perfectly, how his muscular chest was _very_ defined in the shirt he was wearing—in short, she was acutely aware of how attractive the Prince of Slytherin was.

Ironically, Draco was also acutely aware of how attractive the Angel of Gryffindor really was…

"But it's only beginning," Draco smirked. Hermione raised both eyebrows.

"Is it? I am quite sure that once all the food has been consumed it implies that a picnic has come to an end."

"Au contraire, Granger, it implies the picnic has just _begun_."

Hermione decided to play his game. "Okay," she challenged. "What are we going to do now?"

In a fluid motion, Draco pulled out his wand from his blazer pocket. Hermione watched as he waved their picnic basket and trash away (leaving only the blanket). Then he held the wand in the air and pointed it to the castle. "Accio," he murmured, "Lightyear."

Hermione was beyond amused. Lightyear was the newly designed Quidditch broom that the League of Broomsticks had invented, apparently the new design was one thousand times faster than the Firebolt, with fifty times more accuracy. It responded to will and very minimal controlling was required.

Twenty prototypes were released and quite evidently, the Malfoys had bought one (or maybe even many).

"So you're going to show off your flying skills now?"

Draco chuckled. "Really, Granger?" He said as his broom came to a halt beside him, floating just a few inches off of the ground. "You already _know_ how great my flying skills are."

Hermione gave him a look that clearly said: _Cocky, aren't we?_

"We're going to see how great _your_ flying skills are."

Hermione blanked. "Wh-_what_?"

"Scared?"

"Yes!" She said a bit _too_ loudly. Draco laughed once again. If Hermione weren't having a panic attack she would've made a mental comment at how beautiful the sound of his laughter was. Standing up, Draco held a hand out to her and Hermione stared at him as if he were crazy.

"Harry, Ron, the Weasley twins, the Grffindor _Quidditch_ team and Viktor _Krum_ couldn't put me on a broom and you think you can?"

"Yes."

His response was curt and cocky. His eyes were twinkling in delight and Hermione wanted to conk him over the head with an oversized coconut. She held her ground and remained sitting on the picnic blanket. Looking away from Draco, she crossed her arms.

"No."

"Granger, up."

"Do I look like a dog to you?" She whirled on him and was met with a smiling Malfoy. Her anger quadrupled.

"Of course not," his voice was rather soft. "You resemblance is more to that of a bookworm—" he burst into laughter when she glared at him with all the force she had. He was pretty sure if looks could kill, he'd be dancing in hell with Tom Riddle.

Hermione stood up and dusted off her skirt. "If you're going to try to force me to fly, then this picnic is over."

"Are you afraid of heights?"

"Yes!" Hermione was seething in anger. "Now go bug somebody else to fly."

"But everybody else is in Hogsmeade." Draco realized, suddenly, that he _loved_ teasing Hermione Granger. He loved angering her and watching the expressions on her face change so rapidly. The previous night he noticed that he liked pissing her off, but at that moment he realized that he could most _definitely_ get used to ticking off the brains of the Golden Trio.

"Then tough luck." Hermione spun on her heel and was ready to march off but Draco caught her wrist. The sizzle of electricity was undeniable but Draco did not let go—he couldn't. Her skin was soft, like silk, and his fingers felt _happy_ to be in contact with Hermione. It was one third of what he felt when she hugged him and one sixteenth of what he felt when his lips touched her soft and inviting cheek.

"Are you really going to be impossible?" He hummed and she felt like punching him.

Again.

Like from third year.

He _so_ deserved it.

"Are you really looking for another black eye?" She raised her eyebrow at him and he smirked, slowly and dangerously.

"I bet I could get you onto a broom faster than you could throw your fist at me."

"Where was that attitude in third year?"

Draco pulled her closer, his hand still curled around her wrist. "Little-boy Malfoy and grown-man Malfoy are two _very_ different people, bookworm." Yeah, she was right; it was his new pet name for her. "Grown-man Malfoy really believes you'd enjoy flying."

"I don't like flying."

"You flew on the oaf's Griffhippo."

Hermione wanted to laugh. "Hippogriff, Malfoy."

"Same thing," he said absentmindedly. He was dragging her closer to him and she either did not notice or chose not to pull back. In any case, he loved her compliance. "How is that any different from a broom?"

"Hippogriffs are living creatures with a conscience and a fight-or-flight factor. Brooms respond to me and my fear of heights makes me rather irrational." Why was she pouring out her biggest fear to him? Why did she suddenly feel so hot and _why_ was he suddenly _so_ damn close to her.

"But flying with _me_ wouldn't be so bad, now would it?"

Hermione stared at him warily. "Do you _really_ think I'd go thousands of feet into the air with _you_ of all people? I didn't take Harry up on the offer two years ago and I'm most definitely—_Malfoy what in bloody damnation do you think you're doing_?" Her shriek almost put out Draco's eardrums but he was a man on a mission: get Granger on the damn broom. He picked her up caveman style and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Getting you," he grunted, "on Lightyear." He used his wand to bring Lightyear to him and mounted his broom quickly.

"Like this?!" She was hysterical. Draco snickered.

"Yes. You could choose to cooperate or you could fly _thousands_ of feet in the air like how you are now. The choice is yours and I'm not taking _none of the above_ as an answer."

Draco waited; he could literally _hear_ the gears in her head turning. She was faced with a dilemma and she was going to pick the most rational option of the two. He knew her, he knew how her mind worked, and Draco knew that she would pick the smartest option: flying _with_ him, not on his shoulder.

"Why?" Her voice was so soft it almost tore Malfoy's heart in half. Exhaling loudly, he brought her off his shoulder and slid her down to the ground. His hand, however, rested gently on her waist and her body was pressed _comfortably_ against his.

"Because," his voice matched hers, "you're afraid of heights and I want to help you get over it. Besides," he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, "isn't that what friends are for?"

Hermione's heart was pounding against her chest and she didn't know if she could trust her voice. Instead, she nodded. Draco smiled softly. "Will you get on the broom now?"

"Will you let me fall?"

"Never…"

"You'll catch me if I did?"

"Always."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart."

Inhaling deeply, Hermione turned away from him and stared at the broom. "Oh—okay then," she stuttered. She felt his hand come down on her shoulder and she looked over at him.

"Granger, trust me?"

In a heartbeat, she replied. "You know I do."

It was true. She did.

She trusted him with her life… He saved her from an Unforgiveable Curse once and she knew, deep in her heart, that he would again. Why? That she didn't know, but she was positive that he would put his life on the line for her.

Draco had Lightyear floating in front of them and hesitantly Hermione mounted it. Fluidly, Draco go onto the broom behind her and immediately wrapped his arm around her waist. "Ready?" his voice was warm against her ear and the butterflies in her stomach were going crazy. Not trusting her voice (once again), she dumbly nodded and Draco kicked off into the air. Hermione's eyes were closed but she felt the rush of wind go past her and could _feel_ the earth moving farther and farther away.

And then nothing.

No movement, no wind except a light breeze, _nothing_.

"Open your eyes, Granger," Draco's voice hummed against her and Hermione did as she was told. They were going in slow circles over the Quidditch pitch, parallel to the highest Keeper's hoop. Hermione, whose left hand was gripped onto the broom handle and right hand on Draco's arm, tightened her hold on both things. Her heart was pounding and her fear was escalating.

Heights.

Falling…

Death.

"Relax," her mind snapped back to reality when she heard Draco purr into her ear. "I'm here." He murmured as he tightened his hold on her, as if to indicate that he had no intention of letting her fall.

Of letting her go.

"I'll _always_ be here."

Again, Hermione nodded. Draco willed his broom to move away from the vicinity of the Quidditch pitch and go towards the Forbidden Forest. Hermione was in awe of how beautiful the castle scenery looked atop a broom. She vaguely remembered her ride on Buckbeak with Harry in their third year; they _had_ almost fallen off and died back then. Her selective memory blocked that part of her life away in a dark corner of her mind.

It probably fuelled her fear of heights. She was rather sure about it.

"Isn't it beautiful?" She breathed.

"Yes, it is." If she could see Draco, she'd notice that his eyes never left _her_ as he responded. She looked down at the forest and realized that it didn't look _too_ forbidden fifty feet in the air. She and Draco, though, were all too familiar with the dangers that lurked within the tall trees of the forest.

"So, is it as bad as you thought it was?"

"No," she mumbled. "Thank you." She turned her head so that she could look at him and he took the opportunity to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. Blushing, Hermione turned away from him. "Why do you keep doing that?"

His chest rumbled in laughter. "Doing what?"

"_That_."

"Please explain, Granger."

Sighing in exasperation, she used the hand that was holding onto his arm to wave around. "You know!"

"This?" Sneakily, he kissed the area just behind her ear and shivers immediately shot down her spine. Apparently that was one of her more sensitive spots. Trying hard to control the shaking of her voice, Hermione affirmed that that was what she was referring to.

"Because I want to."

Hermione felt as if her lungs were constricting. It was getting _really_ hot _really_ fast and she knew she needed to get _really_ far from Draco.

Now.

"Alright… enough flying for today." She strangled out. Draco laughed, aloud, but did nothing to heed her comment. Hermione frowned.

"Malfoy, can we please go back to the field?"

"But we're having _so_ much fun." He brought his right hand up (as his left hand was around her waist), and caught the pendant between his two fingers. Hermione screamed and he jumped, letting go of her pendant and grabbing the broom immediately. Her shriek threw him off balance and he was afraid they both might fall.

"What?"

"Don't let go of the broom!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Really, Granger? You have a hernia over _that_?"

"I was not having a hernia."

"Right, and my cousin is a giant shaggy dog."

Hermione snuffed and pinched his arm. "Sirius Black is your cousin."

"Can I not be sarcastic without you correcting me?"

Hermione giggled. "No. Now can we _please_ get down? I think I'm going to have an anxiety attack up here."

Rolling his eyes, Draco began to guide his broom closer to the ground. Hermione was still watching their surroundings and was most definitely glad that Draco dragged her ass up into the sky. She wasn't sure if she would do it _again_, but she was glad for that day.

"We are going to have another flying lesson tomorrow." His voice tore into her mind, breaking her train of thoughts.

"_What_?"

His smirk was incredible. "You can't get over a fear if you only face it once."

"That's like stuffing a claustrophobic person into a broom cupboard for hours on end!"

Draco snickered. "True, but that claustrophobic person isn't with _me_, now is she?"

"I'm sure you have a lot of experiences in tiny broom cupboards with another female," Hermione snorted and Draco burst into laughter, throwing his head back and revelling in what she had just said. Hermione couldn't help but giggle as well; his laugh was contagious.

"Your sense of humour never ceases to amaze me."

"I wasn't trying to humour you."

Draco guided them to the Gryffindor Tower, right to the window that would lead Hermione back into her dormitory. Bringing the broom _very_ close, he shoved the window open and helped Hermione climb in. She was safely in her dormitory but Draco did not release his hold on her hand.

"Had fun?" He asked, his thumb drawing lazy circles on her palm. Hermione gulped.

"I did… did you?"

"Yep," he leaned forward and Hermione knew what was coming. She turned her cheek and reached up on her tip-toes so that Draco could plant a soft and endearing kiss on her cheek. "Tomorrow, after lights out?"

Hermione studied his eyes for a long moment, trying to figure _him_ out. When she realized she couldn't, she simply nodded. "Yes. Where will you meet me?"

"Library, restricted section, the eastern window. I'll be outside with Lightyear and you'll climb out. Okay?"

Hermione nodded. "Alright." Holding onto her hand for a moment longer, he finally let go and sped off. Hermione watched his figure leave before slamming the window shut.

_Holy Merlin._

_.xx._

Hermione decided to drown herself into research after her 'date' with Draco ended. She learned the secrets behind the Marauder's Map and even tried to experiment herself in creating a sealed parchment. With her experimenting, she figured out little tricks that would help enhance the security of whatever it was that she was attempting to seal.

Hermione decided to combine the methods of: Tom Riddle's diary (a blank diary), and the Marauder's Map (a special phrase required to activate the map) to create two complementary notebooks. Any and _all_ notes written in the books would be recorded and archived for future references, but only she and Draco could see what was written in the notebooks.

Well, _anybody_ could see it if they had the password. But nobody would; only she would.

And Draco would.

Her book was a dark maroon with a gold spine and golden edged pages. Across the front was her name engraved in gold. She managed to combine both magic and certain potions (which were stacked in the Gryffindor general-use potions cupboard) to _create _the books herself. According to Moony, the creation of the object you wish to enchant would be a lot safer than purchasing something and enchanting it.

Moony, aka Remus Lupin, their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in third year, probably knew a thing or two about enchanting the enchantable.

Draco's book was a deep green, almost black, with a silver spine. The pages of _his_ book were silver edged (his book representing Slytherin and hers, Gryffindor). She didn't put any name or title on his book, knowing that he would want as much secrecy as possible.

Finally, she set the enchantment that sealed off the words from any nosey person. "Incantabit librum istum, e vagantibus oculos. Ostende te loquentem: _vetitum __amicitia_ est nomen mittentis et evanescat."

Both books glowed a magnificent purple before absorbing the aura of the magic. Hermione stared at the books lying on her lap and wondered if it worked—there was only way to find out. Grabbing one of her quills, she wrote in _her_ book: _testing_. She felt Draco's book begin to heat up on her lap and was practically giddy with delight. Her plan worked! Their books would heat up slightly so that the other was aware they had received a message.

Hermione, then, picked up Draco's book, opened it and murmured the words that she made to be the password: "Vetitum amicitia."

Without a moment of pause, the word _test_ bled onto Draco's book. Heart racing, Hermione quickly murmured her name, as she was the sender of the message: "Granger…"

And the word disappeared.

It worked…

"It worked!"

"What worked?"

Hermione shoved Draco's book under her pillow and whirled around to see Fay, Kellah, Parvati and Lavender walk into the dormitory. "McGonagall's method of transfiguring inanimate objects without a wand." Hermione spewed out the first thing that came to her head. Parvati gave Hermione an incredulous look and the young witch could only shrug.

"What? It worked!"

"Right." Parvati rolled her eyes. "On a more interesting note, Hogsmeade was _so_ much fun and Rick Cornwall, the shy guy of Hufflepuff, bought me Butterbeer!"

"He looks like a toad," Kellah snorted.

"He's probably Neville's toad. I mean, Ron's rat turned out to be an animagus… maybe that could explain why Trevor disappears every school year." Fay tapped her chin and Hermione laughed.

"Please! No more crazy pet animagus. I'd rather have a relaxing year this year…"

"I concur." Lavender sank into her bed. "Just study, pass, get a great job, and move away from this 'save the world from a psycho half-blooded wizard who wants blood supremacy.' Voldemort was the biggest hypocrite of life."

Kellah nodded in agreement. "I wish Harry said that to him before he disarmed him to death."

Hermione and Parvati snickered. After exchanging a few more words, Kellah, Parvati, and Fay went to grab some food from the Great Hall and Lavender went to take a shower. Hermione used the opportunity to head to the Owlery to find a large enough bird to deliver Draco's book to him. Slipping a note inside the front cover, Hermione instructed the owl on where to go and how to reach Draco Malfoy

"Hoot and peck at the stone wall," she whispered, "there're no other ways in."

The owl nodded and flew off, quickly disappearing as it soared through the castle to get to the dungeons. Hermione stood in the Owlery for a moment longer before making her way back to her dormitory.

_.xx._

Draco and Blaise were lounging in the Slytherin common room, discussing trivial matters that they generally discussed. "Italy is going to beat England in the World Tournament this year."

Draco shook his head. "France is."

"Just because you're one sixty-forth French doesn't make you a French national."

Glowering at his best friend, Draco did his best to not through the silver candle that sat on the end table beside him. "I'm still French."

"You're more English."

"Whatever I may be, I just hope that chump Krum doesn't win."

Blaise agreed whole heartedly. "I hope the snitch burrows into his fat arse."

"I'll burrow a bludger into his fat arse." Draco scoffed and Blaise cackled loudly. After a few more words exchanged, Blaise decided to take a bathroom break and Draco basked in his memory of what happened throughout the day.

It was a good day…

His train of thought, however, was broken when a tapping and hooting came from _outside_ the stone wall. Knowing in his gut that it was an owl, Draco jumped out of his seat and quickly opened the doorway, revealing a giant barn owl and a package. Immediately taking his parcel, he sent the owl away and returned to his seat.

He tore the wrapping off and saw that a green and silver book was what he received. Knowing it was from Hermione; he opened the front cover and saw a small note:

_Enchanted journal. You write a message and it'll send right away, the book heats up when you receive a message… words become invisible as soon as you send the message._

_Password to view the message:_ _vetitum amicitia  
Password to hide the message: my name._

_Hopefully this puts Bubo Bubo to rest and ease._

Draco wanted to try before Blaise returned. Quickly picking up one of the quills on the coffee table, he wrote a short message:

_Does this thing really work?_

Within moments, he felt his book heat up. He uttered the spell that made Hermione's note visible: "Vetitum amicitia."

Without missing a beat, letters bled onto the page.

_Do you doubt me?_

Laughter bubbled up to Malfoy's throat. He wrote his response:

_Sometimes. But you never fail to prove me wrong._

She was a quick writer because as soon as he sent his message, she replied.

_I hope that's a good thing._

Draco scribbled down: _It is. Hope you had fun today… Blaise is returning, I shall message you before lights out._

She replied: _Alright. I had fun… thank you, for what you did_.

Draco _wanted_ to reply but Blaise had returned. He quickly murmured 'Granger', saw the words disappear, and shoved the book underneath a sofa cushion. "So where were we?" Blaise asked as he sat down on an armchair.

Blaise and Draco resumed talking about Quidditch but the only thing on his mind was when he could message Granger once again.

_.xx._

**Words: 5, 815  
Pages: 18**

**Story Stats:  
Reviews: 237  
Favourites: 230  
Alerts: 478  
(In 4 chapters)**

**Bubo Bubo is the name of the Malfoy family owl (as per Harry Potter wiki). **

**Hermione's spell, rough translation (English to Latin translator courtesy of Google Translate, probably isn't all that accurate, but I was hoping for the feel more than I was aiming for accuracy of words):**

_Enchant this book, from wandering eyes. Reveal yourself when spoken: a forbidden friendship, and disappear when spoken the name of the sender._

**MARAUDER-STYLE PARCHMENT IDEA: KodeV  
BUNCH OF IDEAS I SHALL INCORPORATE THROUGHOUT THE STORY: Goldenbutterfly**

**Special thank you for the awesome idea!**

_**KEEP 'EM COMING!**_

_***Speak Out against **__**cyber-bullying**__*****_

I would like to take this opportunity to write a message to everyone about cyber-bullying. In recent news, Amanda Todd, a beautiful British Columbia girl in Canada, committed suicide because she was the subject of heinous cyber-bullying. The question is: what did Amanda do except make a mistake when she was _twelve_ years-old that brought her to the decision to end her life?

All she needed was one friend. Not a good friend, or a best friend, but just _a_ friend. If she had somebody to lean on and get support from, she would still be with us today. What they say is true, though boys bully physically, the worst kind of bullying is verbally. What's even more worse than that is to be in the comfort of your own home and _still_ be targeted.

What do the bullies gain from this? How can you actually wish _death_ upon somebody? To be given life is the most wonderful damn thing in this whole WORLD and to wish somebody to take that way? Something that their parents strived so hard to achieve, to raise a beautiful and intelligent young woman, to pour their heart, soul, blood, _tears_ into a person and to so easily wish death upon them?

What disgusts me the most is that these bullies have the audacity to go to her memorial page on Facebook and continue to harass the poor girl. Not to be rude, but she's _dead_ now. Let her rest in peace. All the bullies are doing _now_ is targeting her mother and father.

Do something productive, get an education, look for a job, bond with your family, fix broken bridges with friends but _do not_ bully _anybody_. Bullying is what children, and even grown _adults_ do to make themselves feel bigger than they really are. Bullying will _not_ achieve _anything_ in your life. Ever.

I also recall the case of the young girl who committed suicide because a _grown_ woman pretended to be a boy and befriended this girl on MySpace. All because this girl _slighted _her daughter. I mean come _on_. Children I can understand, they don't understand the consequence of their action but a grown _woman_? Whose daughter is the age of the girl she drove to _suicide_?! What has this world _come_ to? We're all of the same race, we all have hearts, souls, minds, so why would you have to _do_ that? Talk to people, tell them how you feel, and if you don't like somebody then **leave them the fuck alone**. Why does anybody have to resort to bullying?

I've been a target of bullying when I was younger, but back then the internet wasn't so prominent where I would be subject to cyber bullying (I'm dating myself. I was actually born in 1990). Why was I bullied? Because I was a teacher's pet, my mom came to parent-teacher interview nights, and I didn't want to break the rules. Little girls, especially those in middle school to high school, can be the most evil and conniving people ever. They band together in groups to hurt _one_ person. Having several people back you up to break down a single person does _not_ make you any better.

I'm a firm believer in karma and I hope it comes back around to the people who drove Amanda Todd to kill herself. I would've been that friend she needed if I had the opportunity to meet her. I would've gone to the movies with her, get our nails done together, hold her when she cried. All she needed was one _damn_ friend and nobody could give that to her. Her final plea for help was posted on the _internet_ but _still_ nobody got the hint.

So she ended her life.

I hope this serves as a lesson to those who partake in bullying. Don't be part of the problem, be part of the solution. End cyber-bullying so that your children, and your children's children don't have experience the horrors of it. Bullying does not make you cool and popularity only exists until you gradate high school. When it comes time for university/college/the work-force, there is no such thing as popularity and all those _cool_ friends you had back in the day won't be there anymore.

If there's anything I learned is that family will **always** back you up. Maybe not the most immediate form of family but grandparents, aunts, uncles, _cousins_, they will always be there for you in some way shape or form. And friends? I have two best friends who can write a biography on me. That's it. I have close friends, good friends, and acquaintances… but only two girls in this whole world I could call my soul sisters.

Don't stand on the side-line and watch bullying happen. If you aren't part of the solution, you're very well part of the problem. If you can save a life – a beautiful _sacred_ thing—you're an angel.

**Take a stand against bullying.**


	6. A Discussion about Draco Malfoy

**_In the Arms of Her Dragon_**

_"Why're you crying?" Draco whispered, sitting down beside Hermione in a deserted Great Hall. Looking up at him with puffy eyes, she admitted what happened earlier at the Gryffindor Tower. Without a moment's hesitation, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and said: "Come on, you're spending the night in the Slytherin dungeon. With me."_

_.xx._

_Awake?_

Draco was sitting on his bed with the journal propped up on his lap. His dormitory mates, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle were sound asleep. Goyle was snoring but they had gotten used to it throughout the years and were able to sleep right through it. Using his wand as a way of shedding light, Draco stared at the journal wondering if Granger was going to reply. A part of him hoped she did…

And he couldn't figure out why.

_Yes I am,_ his journal heat up as words bled onto the page. _Reading up on Potions._

_We didn't have Potions this week._

_Exactly, trying to be prepared for when we have class._

_Bookworm._

_Remind me of that when you try to cheat off of my assignments._

_I never cheat._

_Of course you don't. So during our Transfiguration OWL, you were looking over my shoulder to admire how my nail polish looked?_

Draco chuckled lightly. She kept him entertained, it was rather refreshing. He was used to girls fawning over him and so easily bending to his whim. Hermione Granger matched him word for word; intellect to intellect… it was amazing.

_Of course. I was wondering why a Gryffindor like you would wear Slytherin green nail polish. With silver tips, if I recall._

Draco smirked, watching his journal expectantly.

…

He laughed, trying to muffle the sound. _Cat got your tongue?_

_Trying to figure out how you remember what my nails looked like during our Transfiguration OWL in __fifth__ year._

_Who wouldn't forget one third of the Golden Trio wearing nail polish that represented the house of their mortal enemy._

_I would hope it's just one third. Because if it was the other two, we would have a serious problem._

She had a sense of humour. Draco loved it. _And Pothead and Weasel didn't have a problem with you endorsing Slytherin?_

_Green is my favourite colour. They badgered me into trying to change_ _it to red and gold but…_

Draco waited but nothing else came so he quickly scribbled: _But green is the best colour around?_

_Exactly._

_Although the topic of your nail colour in fifth year is rather riveting, can we talk about something else now?_

_Alright, what do you want to talk about?_

Draco thought before smirking. _Are you a virgin?_

_DRACO MALFOY!_

Draco snickered. _What? I think it's a legitimate question._

_Are you?_

_I asked you first._

_I asked you second._

_Ladies first._

_Exactly Malfoy, so go ahead._

_Last I checked, I was all beast._

_Last I checked, I was a goddess._

_I don't know about that, bookworm. Maybe I should check for you._

_This conversation is over._

_Come on!_

_Good night._

_Granger!_

_Bye._

Draco rolled his eyes. _Fine. Goodnight._

He waited for a good thirty seconds and when he got nothing; he whispered 'Granger' and shoved the journal under his pillow. That conversation was rather enlightening—_Goddess, hmm?_ He'd see to that one himself.

_.xx._

Hermione awoke in the morning to Lavender bawling. Scrambling out of bed, she hurried over to her friend, who was in Kellah's arms, and asked what happened.

"She heard that Ron was kissing some girl on the eighth floor yesterday," Fay filled in. Hermione snorted.

"Really? _Really_?! Is he _trying_ to sleep with _every_ girl in the school?"

"Apparently," Parvati snorted. "It was a Hufflepuff girl too. _Hufflepuff_!"

Fay rolled her eyes and winked at Hermione. "Of all the houses hmm?"

"She was probably high," Kellah offered. "They all normally are. If you walk by their portrait you can _smell_ the potions that they do."

"Why do you think they're called _Huff_le_puff_," Parvati grinned. "They keep huffing and puffing potions."

"It's the only house against which house prejudice is condoned… by even the _professors_ and _headmasters_." Hermione added. "We could probably converse with the _Slytherins_, civilly might I add, of all the faults the Hufflepuffs have." Lavender pulled out of Kellah's arms to smile at her friends.

"You all are brilliant."

Hermione winked at her. "I heard through the grapevine that Dumbledore had to _offer_ Professor Sprout an increase in her salary of _thirty-seven_ percent when he offered her the job of Head of Hufflepuff."

"Why did he have to offer her a salary increase?" Kellah was truly intrigued.

"She wanted to be sorted into Ravenclaw during her sorting but the Hat thought she'd be more appropriate in Hufflepuff," for once in her life Hermione was glad that she listened to the Ravenclaw girls gossiping in the library. "She's been resentful ever since."

The girls shared a laugh and Lavender thanked her friends. Parvati wrapped an arm around Lavender's shoulder and suggested that they go for breakfast… and shoot daggers at Ronald Weasley.

Hermione snorted as she gathered her books, namely the journal, and commented at how she _always_ glared at Ronald Weasley as the exited their dormitory en route to the Great Hall.

_.xx._

True to their words, the girls glared menacingly at Ron before brushing past him and heading to the _end_ of the table. Kellah took it unto herself to elbow him in the head _hard_ before throwing her nose in the air. Ron looked confused and Harry sighed, knowing exactly what they were doing.

Ron was caught kissing a Hufflepuff girl on the eighth floor the previous night when he _knew_ Lavender had a thing for him. Sometimes he wondered how Ron was still _alive_; the Gryffindor girls were vicious little things.

Draco Malfoy had seen everything and, for a brief moment, caught Hermione's eye. He tilted his head slightly and she raised an eyebrow. He wanted to laugh; she was still upset about their conversation last night. Hiding his journal inside of a Transfiguration textbook, he had it propped against the edge of the table and his lap so that nobody would be able to see what he was writing. Thankfully Hermione had conditioned the journals to have the words disappear as soon as they're written.

_Still mad?_

He saw Hermione jump slightly and figure the notebook was heating up under her fingertips. She shared a joke with her friends, giggled, and opened it. She quickly read what he wrote, looked up and pouted ever slightly. Draco saw that she pulled out her quill and began writing.

_Yes. Kind of. Ron's a jerk._

_I could've told you that._

"What you got there, mate?" Blaise said and Draco slammed the Transfiguration book shut, sandwiching his journal in between the pages.

"A textbook," Draco snorted. "Can't I study?"

"You study?" Adrian smirked and Draco glowered in his direction.

"I'm not top performing wizard of our year for _nothing_."

"Granger's beating you though," Blaise taunted. Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes. He quickly glanced at Hermione and saw that she had shut her notebook and was conversing with her friends once again. She probably figured that he was unable to continue writing and turned her undivided attention to Parvati, who was speaking animatedly.

"I said top performing _wizard_, not witch." Draco smirked, turning back to Blaise and recalling what Hermione wrote to him last night:

_Last I checked, I was a goddess._

"Who knows what's in those robes," Theodore said as he stole some of his girlfriend's pumpkin juice. "Could be a Neanderthal."

Vincent shook his head. "Doubt it. Even though she's a Gryffindor, she's one hell of a girl."

"Easy on the eyes," Blaise concurred.

Draco was beginning to feel slightly jealous, a feeling he was rather unfamiliar with. He didn't like the fact that his mates were _praising_ Granger. He had formed a special bond with her, something that he was coming to cherish greatly, and it was because of that that he was becoming suddenly very protective of her. She was a frenemy, a _good_ frenemy, and he knew what his friends _really_ thought of her.

No, of her _house_.

"What do you think, Malfoy?" Adrian nudged his mate and Draco scowled at him.

"Can we talk about something else _other_ than how easy on the eyes Granger is?"

"If you don't find that bird hot, I doubt your sexuality." Theodore muttered and Draco stood up, knocking over his pumpkin juice.

"Thought your mother taught you more respect than _that_, Nott." Draco hissed murderously. Theodore stood up and matched Draco's look with one of his own.

"Getting rather antsy there, Malfoy." Theodore whispered. "Did I strike a chord?"

Draco glowered at him for a moment longer before picking up his books and leaving the Great Hall. Unknown to him, the entire room and gone quiet and watched the interlude. Blaise, after a moment, got up and chased after his best friend and Hermione watched worriedly.

_What happened…_ she pondered, anxious to pull out her notebook and write to her _frenemy_.

_.xx._

Wanting to not be found, Draco had quickly called his broom and flew to one of the tallest towers that Hogwarts had to offer. He chose the third tallest, not wanting to be sitting on the Gryffindor tower in case he was seen by _somebody_. Leaning against the shingles, Draco watched some birds fly over the Forbidden Forest. Why did he get so angry?! He was _so_ close to blowing their cover…

Why couldn't he keep his emotions in check?

Why did he have to blow up on Nott?

His notebook began heating up.

_What happened?_ He read the words that Hermione wrote to him and, for some reason, his anger began subsiding.

_Don't worry about it. What did the ginger bread weasel do?_

He patted his shoulder for that one; it was a rather original new insult. He waited for a few moments before he was greeted with a ginormous paragraph. "Way to write an essay, Granger." He murmured as he began skimming over what she wrote, trying to pick up on significant words; he was scanning for _idiot, jerk, weasel, hate, _and any variation of.

To the eyes of Draco Malfoy, Hermione's message looked something like:

… _idiot… jerk… kissed this Hufflepuff girl on the eighth floor… Lavender… shooting daggers… I'm ready to hex him… argh!_

Her five hundred word paragraph summarized into ninteen convenient words. Draco was proud of himself. _Relax, Granger._

_I am relaxed. Kind of…_

_Do some breathing exercises._

_Come from the man who just went head to head with his mate?_

_He said some questioning things that I wasn't approving of._

_Like?_

_He was disrespecting women._

_And you __cared__?_

_My mother taught me how to respect women._ Well, she did. Draco just didn't employ those lessons in day-to-day life… well, actually he didn't _used_ to. He was beginning to see how the 'How to Treat a Lady' lessons that Narcissa had given him throughout his life could come in handy.

Especially with Granger.

Hermione, on the other hand, was staring at her notebook. She was sitting in her dormitory (she had told the girls she had to quickly run to the library), writing to Draco and trying to figure out what happened. He was being rather cryptic though. Figuring she should change the subject, she wrote: _I'm still upset over what you said last night._

She waited a few seconds for his response. _Would it help if I said I was sorry?_

_Would you mean it?_

_Probably not. I do want to see if you're all goddess down there._

_Malfoy!_

_Mother also taught me not to lie!_

_You could certainly pick and choose what you say to somebody._

_Where's the fun in that?_

Hermione couldn't fight her smile. Fighting with him was probably the most fun she _ever_ had. _Where did you run off to?_ Change of topic again. Draco had gotten comfortable on his tower, having conjured up a pillow to rest his royal butt on.

_Nowhere of consequence. Why, worried?_

_If I was, I wouldn't admit it._

_Aww, I'm glad you care bookworm._

_Don't get used to it. DADA is in half an hour, you coming?_

_Do I have to?_

_Yes._

_Fine._

_Good._

_Great._

_See you then._

_See you._

_Bye!_

_Farewell._

_Will you stop now?_

_When you stop._

_But I don't want to stop._

_Good, neither do I._

_We really need to go._

_We do._

_So stop?_

_You first._

_Malfoy!_

_Come on, bookworm._

_Gah. Fine. See you in the dungeons._

Hermione slammed her notebook shut and threw it to the foot of her bed. Dammit, she was acting like she was in a committed relationship with Draco and doing what her muggle friends do with their boyfriends:

'You hang up first'

'No you'

'No, you!'

'Nuh uh, you first'

'No, you first'

Hermione shoved her head into her pillow. She was getting _too _fond of Draco Malfoy a bit _too_ fast. Whether that was a good thing or bad was left to interpretation.

_.xx._

Hermione was sitting beside Neville and Kellah two rows from the front. The professor, whoever it was going to be that year, hadn't shown up yet and the eighth years were mingling, talking about how long they thought _this_ professor was going to last.

Harry was betting two years.

Luna said six months.

"How long do you think, Hermione?" Neville asked and Hermione shrugged.

"I just hope they don't have Voldemort on the back of their head."

"Or in their diary." Kellah added.

"Or at the end of a maze," Hermione giggled. Neville rolled his eyes at how his friends were flippant about Voldemort's many resurrections. Once upon a time they wouldn't be able to jest about it. But now? It was _the_ topic of humour in any conversation… especially the joke about how Harry disarmed him to death.

Never got old.

Ron was sitting in a corner with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan and Hermione figured it was because he was going through a lot of hate at the moment but she wondered why didn't he ever learn? Back when he claimed that he _liked_ her, he made out with _Lavender, _and now he was kissing up some Hufflepuff girl when he knew that Lavender liked him.

Draco, Blaise, and Tracey walked in and were followed by Vincent, Gregory, Adrian, and Theodore. Theodore looked annoyed; it was probably because of the spat he had with Draco moments prior. In any case, the Slytherins were like family and reconciled pretty quickly. Hermione glanced over her shoulder in time to see them sit down at the last table in the row.

"I think a Dementor would have a better chance in teaching us Defense against the Dark Arts," Fay spat as she plopped unceremoniously beside Neville. "Think about it," she winked, "if anybody got on their nerves, they could kiss them to death."

Hermione laughed, finding Fay's joke to be humorous. Kellah simply snorted and Neville burrowed his head into his arms, he would much rather be somewhere _else_. He hated Defense against the Dark Arts but here he was, taking it and having to write a NEWT on it. _Gah._

Hermione was flipping through her textbook, choosing to zone out the hustle and bustle around her. Kellah got up and went to talk with Susan Bones and Luna Lovegood for a bit, before their professor decided to show up. Fay, getting bored, joined her and Hermione could hear light snores coming from Neville. Poor boy had fallen asleep.

Ron was still sitting in his corner, sulking, and Harry stepped out of the classroom to go to the lavatory. Beneath her textbook, her journal heat up.

_Prepared for another year of this cursed class?_

Hermione bit back her smile and fought the urge to turn around and catch Draco Malfoy's gaze. She quickly scribbled her response. _I helped defeat Voldemort. I was born ready._

_I was also the only kid that ever got away with hugging him._

_Do you feel loved?_

_Not at the least._

Hermione was very close to laughing. _I would feel special—who ever got away with hugging him __other__ than you?_

_Trust me, if I knew I'd go to rehabilitation with them. These scars will never heal… want to kiss them better, Granger?_

_You're so funny, Malfoy._

_Natural born funny-guy._

_Funny looking more like it._

Before Draco could respond to her jibe the dungeon doors swung open. The class whirled around and immediately Hermione stood up, her hand covering her mouth. Harry gasped, loudly, and Ron bit back a curse.

"Remus?" Hermione finally found it in her to whisper the name of what looked like their new/old Defense against the Dark Arts professor: Remus Lupin. Draco simply rolled his eyes and slammed the journal shut.

_Great,_ he thought, _it's the wolf-man._

"Hullo, class." Remus's eyes twinkled. "I apologize for the delay. You can say that it's that time of month again."

The few that knew intimately what that meant shared a laugh. Harry beamed at his father's best friend; it was such a wonderful surprise. Remus and Tonks hadn't told them that he was planning on returning to Hogwarts but that didn't matter—Harry was elated. Ron, despite wallowing in self misery, found it in him to stand up and shake hands with his former professor and now friend.

"Settle down," Remus strode up to the podium. Everybody hurried back to their original seats and Hermione shoved Neville, waking him up.

"Wha- huh…" His eyes focused. "Remus?!"

Remus chuckled. "Hullo to you too, Neville. Now," he placed his books and wand down. "This is going to be an intense year. Most of you excel in defending yourself in the dark arts and others," his eyes landed on Harry and then shifted to Hermione, "excel _in_ the dark arts."

Hermione blushed sheepishly and everybody in the room laughed. Draco, who was leaning back in his seat with his fingers linked at the back of his head, was secretively watching Hermione Granger. The blush of pink on her cheeks suited her _really_ nicely.

Blaise nudged Draco. "The werewolf?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah… remember third year?"

Gregory smirked and looked over at his best mate. "When Granger punched you?"

"Shut up, Greg." Draco muttered.

"There isn't much that I can _teach_ you all, per se, but we can do lots to excel in what you already know." Remus recited. "If my memory serves correctly, after Defense against the Dark Arts, you lot have double Unforgiveable and Illegal Spells and a half-class of Transfiguration, correct?"

There was a chorus of _yes_.

"Excellent. I am working hand-in-hand with your Unforgiveable and Illegal Spells professor—" Remus's eyes landed on the Slytherins. "You should be able to recognize who he is. What I do will be complemented and supplemented with his class. Now, to begin, the Headmistress and I have decided that since this course is presumed to be _cursed_, we are going to do something that is against tradition: seating arrangement."

"A seating _what_?!" Ron blasted and Remus sent him a snarky look.

"Arrangement, Mister Weasley." Remus repeated. "Now to promote inter-house relations, Headmistress and I decided that we will place four students at a table, all representing a different house. Starting at the first table we will seat—"

Groaning, the room began shifting. Students were taking their seats where Remus Lupin was assigning them and the students that just _lost_ their seats were lingering until their names were called.

Table one consisted of: Padma Patil of Ravenclaw, Harry Potter of Gryffindor, Theodore Nott of Slytherin, and Hannah Abbot of Hufflepuff.

Table two consisted of: Luna Lovegood of Ravenclaw, Ron Weasley of Gryffindor, Pansy Parkinson of Slytherin, and Susan Bones of Hufflepuff.

Table three consisted of: Mandy Brocklehurst of Ravenclaw, Fay Dunbar of Gryffindor, Millicent Bulstrode of Slytherin, and Ernie Macmillian of Hufflepuff.

Table four consisted of: Terry Boot of Ravenclaw, Neville Longbottm of Gryffindor, Adrian Pucey of Slytherin, and Megan Jones of Hufflepuff.

Table five consisted of: Sue Li of Ravenclaw, Seamus Finnigan of Gryffindor, Vincent Crabbe of Slytherin, and Wayne Hopkins of Hufflepuff.

Table six consisted of: Anthony Goldstein of Ravenclaw, Dean Thomas of Gryffindor, Blaise Zabini of Slytherin, and Oliver Rivers of Hufflepuff.

By this point there were no more Hufflepuffs so Lupin doubled up on some of the houses that had more students than others. By the end there were four students standing and all eyes were on them.

"And the final table consists of: Kevin Entwhistle of Ravenclaw, Hermione Granger of Gryffindor, Kellah Morris of Gryffindor, and Draco Malfoy of Slytherin."

Draco and Hermione exchanged glances before taking their seats _beside_ each other at the last table in the back to the left. Kellah sat on Draco's left and Kevin was sitting on Hermione's right. Without a warning, Kellah grinned at Draco.

"Malfoy? I'm Kellah. You look like a jerk from afar but up close you're pretty bloody cute."

Draco spluttered.

Hermione snorted.

Kevin burst into laughter.

Remus shook his head.

"Anyway, now that we've established our seating arrangement, I would like to make a few quick announcements. First of all your table-mates will be the ones you do any group projects or practical training with," Remus scanned the classroom. "They are your lifelines. Secondly, this class will have four major projects—"

_.xx._

"He's rather gorgeous up close and personal," Kellah murmured as the girls went to sit in the courtyard. Hermione was listening intently; a topic concerning her frenemy, how exciting (kind of?). "I know you're jealous, Fay."

Fay snorted. "Platinum blond doesn't float my boat."

"It's more dirty blond." Lavender tapped her chin. "I just want to run my fingers through it."

Hermione giggled. "His hair _does_ look soft."

"It _glistened _under the candlelight, Hermione!" Kellah sighed dreamily. "Were you _not_ staring awkwardly in DADA?"

Hermione wrapped an arm around Kellah's shoulder. "No, but everybody saw that _you_ were. Heck, even _Malfoy_ knew. He was shifting towards _me_ the entire time because you were staring just a tad too obviously."

Kellah threw her nose in the air. "Harrumph. I was purposely trying to have him feel awkward."

"Right," Parvati smirked. "You probably wanted to smell him."

"I bet he smells as delicious as he looks," Kellah winked. "Too bad you don't get to sit next to the Slytherin Sex God."

"Oh, Kell." Hermione shook her head. "You've made the last eight years of my life that much more bearable."

Fay nodded in agreement. "The boys had Ron, we needed our own comic relief."

"Ron's just funny to look at," Lavender snorted. "Kell has true _funny_."

"I'm still thinking of how much sex appeal oozed out of Malfoy." Kellah ducked and dodged the smack Fay aimed at her and the girls burst into uncontrollable giggles. Hermione, though she had a few friends in the muggle world, was truly glad that she and her dorm mates were as close as they were. Sure her best friends were Harry and Ron (Ron was at the edge of the scale, though), but she needed girls in her life.

Girls like Fay, Kella, Lavender, and Parvati.

"Other than Draco Malfoy's obvious _sex_," Fay said as the girls sat down on some benches. "How're you feeling, Lav?"

Lavender shrugged. "You girls helped me feel better. He's such a jerk."

Hermione concurred. "You didn't figure _that_ out when he made out with you a day after he confessed he liked me?"

Lavender blushed. "I'm sorry."

"No harm, no foul. I never liked him, remember?"

"I don't see how anybody _could_," Kellah muttered. "He's no Draco Malfoy."

"Bloody Merlin!" Fay threw her hands up in the air _just_ as Draco, Blaise, and Theodore walked by. Unfortunately for Fay, she didn't notice them and continued talking: "are you going to day dream about fornicating with Draco Malfoy now?!"

"Excuse me?"

Fay turned _red_ and mechanically turned to be greeted by a smirking Draco Malfoy. "Uhh… umm… we were… talking about the… Draco Malfoy in… Huffle… puff…?"

Draco chuckled, a velvety sound. Hermione's grip tightened on her textbooks but her eyes never left Draco. "Is that so? What were you saying about this Draco Malfoy in Hufflepuff?"

"How he oozes with sex appeal," Hermione piped up and the girls shot her a glare. She saw Draco's eyes widen with amusement. "What? You need to take some pointers from him, Malfoy." Her eyes twinkled. "According to the tally in Myrtle's bathroom, right by where the Chamber of Secrets is, he's three votes away from taking your title as Hogwarts Sex God."

"Really?" Draco sang. "I must consult him on his secrets, then. Perhaps you should introduce me to him someday, hmm?"

"Rest assured, Malfoy, I will." Hermione squared her chin.

Sending the girls a wink, Draco strolled off and Kellah clutched her heart. "Merlin! That was so _close_," and whirled to Hermione. "You had to _tell_ him, didn't you?!"

"Draco Malfoy from Hufflepuff?" Hermione wailed. "He isn't a stone; he _knew_ we were talking about him."

Fay blushed. "Okay, yeah, that was rather stupid of me."

"Rather?" Parvati snorted. "Try _very_ stupid."

"You deserve to have Buckbeak bite you," Lavender muttered and Fay glowered at her.

"Not funny, Lav."

Hermione laughed and shook her head. She felt her journal heat up beneath her fingertips and slyly opened it.

_I ooze with sex appeal?_

Noticing that the girls changed the topic and were discussing the new Madam Witch fashion line, Hermione withdrew her quill from her pocket and wrote.

_Not you. The Malfoy from Hufflepuff._

His response came in a heartbeat. _Perhaps you should introduce me to him tonight? Remember, we have a flying session after lights out._

_I remember. Eastern window of the Restricted Section._

_Glad to see you remember._

_Who could forget… leaving for class now. See you there?_

_Yep. Later, bookworm._

Hermione shut the journal just as the girls were getting up. Fay commented on it: "You have a diary, Miney?"

She nodded. "Yeah. You should try diary keeping, it's rather therapeutic."

"Right. So is sex."

"With Draco Malfoy." Laughing, Kellah ducked the punch that _Hermione_ threw at her. "Geez, you girls can't take a joke. Come on, we're going to be late for class."

_Class,_ Hermione thought. _With Draco Malfoy…_ she hid a smile. _From Slytherin, _not_ Hufflepuff._

_.xx._

**Words: 4 339  
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	7. Lesson Number One

_**In the Arms of Her Dragon**_

_"Why're you crying?" Draco whispered, sitting down beside Hermione in a deserted Great Hall. Looking up at him with puffy eyes, she admitted what happened earlier at the Gryffindor Tower. Without a moment's hesitation, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and said: "Come on, you're spending the night in the Slytherin dungeon. With me."_

_.xx._

The group of girls walked into their Unforgiveable and Illegal Spells class, giggling about a stupid Harry-Ron story Hermione was telling them. Lavender was having a blast; it was perfect material to use to get over Ron. After she found out that Ron didn't understand the intricacies of a woman's anatomy, she decided she could never look at him without bursting into excessive laughter ever again.

Fay sat down near the back of the room and was promptly followed by Kellah and Parvati. Lavender and Hermione exchanged glances.

"Um," Lavender began, "we're sitting back here?"

Fay nodded. "Yes. Why? Too far for you?"

"Yes." Hermione answered without hesitation. "Butts up, we're moving to the table right up _there_," she pointed to the second table from the front. Fay frowned.

"But—"

Hermione grinned evilly at her. "If you're going to ask for my help during our examination period, I suggest you give me the opportunity to sit close enough to pay _attention_."

"Quit bugging your roommates, Granger." Draco's greater-than-thou voice sounded from the doorway. Hermione looked over at him and raised an eyebrow, obviously surprised _and_ amused that he was addressing her directly as opposed to through their enchanted diaries.

"I do have to learn, Malfoy," she responded, "why don't you pick up some pointers from your Hufflepuff counterpart."

Draco smirked and Hermione's stomach did flip flops. "Oh I will," his voice dropped, "after _you_ introduce me to him."

Fay stood up. "You know what? Let's move to the front—I don't think I can stand another conversation about the Draco Malfoy in Hufflepuff." And with that, she stomped off. Hermione, Kellah, Lavender, and Parvati burst into laughter and even Draco had to chuckle.

As the girls turned to follow Fay, Hermione's eyes caught Draco's and he subtly smirked and winked at her. Rolling her eyes in amusement, Hermione walked off and Draco promptly sat in the seat Fay was in not too long ago. Within _seconds_, Vincent and Gregory thunked in followed by Pansy, Theodore, Blaise, Adrian, and Tracey. Immediately behind Tracey were Harry, Ron, and Luna.

"Unforgiveable and Illegal spells?" Pansy's shrill voice echoed in the dungeon. "Why must _we_ learn that?"

"Quick," Ron turned to her, "name the four Unforgiveable Curses."

Pansy snorted. "Avada Kadevra, Cruciatus, and Imperius."

"And?" Ron raised an eyebrow expectantly and Blaise scowled at him.

"There are only _three_ curses, Weasley."

Everybody in the room had quieted down to turn and watch the interlude. Draco, whose head was buried in his hands, was listening intently. Beneath his fingertips were his two textbooks and journal, the latter beginning to slowly heat up. Sitting up, Draco yawned melodramatically before flipping his journal open and glancing at what Hermione had written to him.

_How long do you think before Pansy attacks Ron?_

Draco smirked and looked up, catching Hermione's eyes. He mouthed to her 'ten seconds' and immediately after he closed his lips, Pansy lunged at Ron.

"Expelliarmus is _not_ an Unforgiveable Curse, you pathetic excuse of a wizard!"

"Actually, Miss Parkinson," the familiar rumble of Remus's voice came from the entryway of the classroom, "you will learn in the second unit that the Expelliarmus is, in fact, one of the new secondary curses. But for now I suggest you relinquish your hold on Mr Weasley's hair and promptly take a seat—actually don't. This class has a seating arrangement as well."

There was collective groaning and Pansy scowled scathingly at Ron who was rubbing his head… that Parkinson had an iron grip.

_You're good._

Draco looked at the perfect cursive writing in his journal. Admittedly, Granger had nice handwriting… well, he did _too_ but he wasn't about to compliment _his_ own writing. He could though, he _was_ a Malfoy. Again he locked eyes with her and mouthed 'I know.'

_Is there a problem with you writing?_

He wanted to laugh so badly. Remus made his way up to the classroom and while everybody was focusing on him, Draco took the opportunity to quickly write back to Hermione: _I'm sitting beside Crabbe and Goyle. They're bound to ask what I'm writing._

Hermione responded quickly. Apparently her friends weren't paying enough attention to her to inquire what she was doing. It was either that or they we were used to her concentrating on a book and periodically writing. _Tell them you're talking to the most wonderful witch alive and you can only dream of being like her._

Draco snickered. _We aren't talking about Moaning Myrtle, Granger._

_Wow, Malfoy. Not _only_ are you going for a muggle-born, but you're going for a _dead_ one. I'm sure Grandfather Malfoy is turning in his grave._

Draco was quick to respond. _Tossing, turning, hoping that I don't have the capacity to reproduce and pass down the trait that allows me to lust uncontrollably over a crying dead muggle-born girl._

_I'm surprised such large words are in your daily vocabulary._

_When I'm butting heads with Hermione Granger, I need to expand my horizons._

_Glad you find it necessary to "expand your horizons" when speaking with me._

Draco's eyebrows shot up and he lazily glanced up at Hermione. His eyes widened with surprise when she sent him a playful wink before turning her attention to Remus, who was shuffling through some paper. Apparently he was trying to find something.

"Aha, here it is." Remus said more to himself than anybody else. Finally, clearing his throat he drew the attention of the class. "Your professor for the class is a new hire, Headmistress and the committee have found him to be the most excellent of choices to teach you." Remus looked at the doorway. "Enter now, Professor Flint."

Heads turned, a few girls gasped, and Pansy burst into uncontrollable laughter, followed by Tracey. Draco grinned stupidly. Apart from the Slytherins, nobody realized _who_ Professor Flint really was. Hermione's eyes were locked on 'Professor Flint.' He had to be the most attractive professor she had _ever_ seen.

He was tall, about as tall as Draco, with short and spiked brown hair. There was a five o'clock shadow that studded his face and, to complete the 'attractive-bad-boy-Professor' look, he had a small snake earring on his left ear. He could _not_ be older than twenty-one and _had_ to be younger than twenty-five.

Remus had a knowing grin on his face when he saw the girls in the class react the way they did. Of course they didn't recognize Professor Flint—who _would_ recognize him without his severe overbite and protruding jaw. It was a wondrous thing what muggle braces could do. Apparently magic didn't solve all…

"He is a graduate of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and some of you may recognize him, possibly even had class with them." Remus nodded at Professor Flint. "Ready to take the stage, Professor?"

The new Professor of Unforgivable and Illegal spells nodded before taking a stand at the podium. "Hello class," he greeted. His had a coppery voice that reverberated with utter masculinity. Lavender sighed loudly and just about died when 'Professor Flint' winked in her direction. The action caused Pansy to snort loudly and Tracey to stifle her laughter.

Oh yeah, they recognized Professor Flint alright.

"I want to thank Professor Lupin for introducing me. As per instructions given to us by Headmistress, I am also assigning a seating arrangement. Everybody up!"

The class groaned and somebody, a Ravenclaw girl, was heard saying, _and here I thought he was hotter than Malfoy._

Draco was amused and Hermione didn't hide her grin. She would bring that up with him when they were having their flying lessons later that night; it was perfect tease-Draco material. The group gathered towards the back of the class as Remus and Professor Flint waved their wands. The tables began shaking before they shot into the air, were surrounded by a puff of purple smoke, and then came back down.

Now, instead of rows, there were tables big enough for only two students.

"Great," Harry groaned loudly. "We told you, the Slytherins and Gryffindors get along now. No need for a seating arrangement!"

"Harry." Remus's tone was curt and stern. Sighing exasperatedly, Harry said nothing and simply glared at the tables. Hermione idly glanced over at Draco who was animatedly chatting with Blaise—something about a jewel encrusted quill.

Professor Flint held out a roll of parchment and began calling out names: "Blaise Zabini and Neville Longbottom."

Neville groaned loudly and Ron gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. "You'll be fine mate."

"Unnnhh…" Neville grumbled. The two of them stepped forward, shook hands, and picked a table to sit at.

"Pansy Parkinson and Harry Potter."

"Are you fu—"

"Harry Potter!" Remus roared and Harry immediately shut up. Begrudgingly he shook hands with Pansy and they took the table just behind Blaise and Neville.

"Adrian Pucey and Luna Lovegood."

Neither complained but simply shook hands and took the table farthest from where the first four were sitting. The list continued and two by two, the tables were filling up. Finally there was only one table left – the far back one—and two people:

"Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger."

"Figures," Draco murmured as he and Hermione were standing beside each other. "We become friends and suddenly we're always seated together."

"Frenemies," Hermione corrected with a sly grin and she was assaulted by a sensual Draco Malfoy grin. Something she had only seen a few times and he only directed them, from what she gathered, to people that seemed special to him.

_Well, by the beard of Merlin… I'm special._ She thought amusedly, another tease-Draco topic to bring up later that night.

All eyes were on Draco and Hermione as they took a step forward each, shook hands, and then proceeded to walk over to their table. Draco stood off to the side and waited for Hermione to sit down before he took his seat—it was his version of holding her chair out for her since he couldn't _actually_ do it without people raising their eyebrows at him.

"Excellent," Professor Flint beamed. Remus Lupin smiled before taking his leave. As soon as the dungeon door shut, Blaise Zabini stood up.

"Are you _serious_, mate?!"

Professor Flint began grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Serious about what, Mr Zabini? Do you mind taking your seat?"

Adrian raised his hand and before Professor Flint could call on him, asked: "How'd you fix your face?"

Professor Flint's grin began widening. Hermione, who was thankful that she and Draco had gotten a seat that was behind _everybody_ so nobody was able to see them, leaned towards her tablemate. "What's going on?"

Draco lazily looked over at her. "Don't you recognize him?" He whispered back and Hermione bit her lip.

"Am I supposed to?"

Draco cleared his throat and stood up, not answering Hermione. He looked at the 'Professor' and asked: "Professor Flint, may I conduct a quick experiment to help my classmates recognize who you are?"

If Professor Flint grinned anymore, his face would be stuck in that position perpetually. "Mr Malfoy, I have no idea what you mean."

Raising his wand, Draco waved it at Professor Flint's direction and superimposed a grotesque overbite onto his face. A plethora of gasps were heard and Hermione managed to squeak out: "Marcus Flint?"

At that precise moment Pansy and Tracey burst into laughter followed by the rest of the Slytherins. The girl from Ravenclaw, who earlier commented about Marcus being hotter than Draco, earlier passed out and a few of the students rushed to her. Luna Lovegood ran out of the room to call Madam Pomfrey.

"Wow, mate," Theo grinned, "not even the first ten minutes and you've sent somebody to the hospital wing."

"Mah… muh… Flint… Mar…cus…" Hermione gaped at the professor and Draco looked up at his old mate and now professor.

"I believe you've rendered Granger speechless."

Ron stood up and pointed a finger at Marcus. "But you _failed_ twice! How in bloody hell did you become a bloody _professor_?!"

"I suggest you speak to me with respect, Weasley," Marcus said snidely. "My academics are none of your concern."

Ron sat down and crossed his arms. Grumbling, he turned to Blaise and said: "_How_?!"

Blaise shrugged. "Beats me, Weasel. I'm as surprised as you are to be totally honest."

"Muh… muh… muh…"

Draco nudged Hermione. "Granger, please form coherent words."

"Marcus _Flint_?!"

"I believe we established that that is his name." Draco was thoroughly enjoying the moment. It was perfect tease-Granger material for later that night… little did he know that she already had a few tease-Malfoy points.

"_How_?!"

"Well," Draco smirked. "Mr and Mrs Flint found out that they were expecting-"

Hermione shot Draco a nasty glare. "I know what process Mr and Mrs Flint had to engage in to _produce_ Marcus, but _how_?!"

"Well when a man loves a woman…"

"Malfoy," Hermione emanated danger, "shut. up."

Marcus tapped his wand on the podium as he'd seen Severus Snape do throughout his years at Hogwarts. "Are we done discussing my birth, name, and grades? We have a lesson to begin."

As the words left his mouth a loud horn sounded indicating the class was done. Marcus scowled and said something along the lines of: "Now I understand why Snape was so disagreeable."

At that precise moment, Madam Pomfrey rushed it followed by Luna.

_.xx._

Kellah, Parvati, Lavender, and Fay caught up to Hermione as they left the dungeons. Kellah wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulder and proceeded to tease her. "Muh... muh… muh."

Hermione shoved her off. "Bugger off, Kell."

"You were right though," Parvati directed her statement to Hermione. "If we minus the overbite and the protruding jaw, he is one fine specimen."

Fay raised her eyebrows at Hermione. "You _analyzed_ on whether Marcus Flint would be hot without the massive thing he called a jaw?"

Hermione crossed her arms and harrumphed. "I may be a bookworm but attractive men attract me!"

"I concurred with her too," Kellah admitted. "We both magicked his face and took out the jaw. He looks better than what we conjured up though."

Fay groaned and shook her head. "I swear to Merlin."

"Why does Slytherin get the attractive men," Lavender sighed sadly. "Zabini, Malfoy, Nott…"

"Crabbe and Goyle are _not_ that great looking," Fay said dryly. "Harry, Ron, and Neville look a thousand times better than them."

Hermione shuddered. "I grew up regarding the latter three as _brothers_. Their names plus _hot_ is _not_ appealing."

"And Ron is off the hot list indefinitely." Lavender inputted. "He's a jerk who can't sustain a crush on a girl for longer than a minute."

Kellah playfully shoved Hermione. "How long before Ron is on the hot list?"

"Never!" Lavender said vehemently. "He's a… a… a…"

"Weasel?" Kellah offered and Lavender grasped that insult.

"Yes. A weasel!"

Parvati giggled. "For once we agree with the Slytherins."

"After calling three of the most notorious members _hot_." Hermione added and Kellah murmured a soft _amen_.

"Why does calling them notorious make them _hotter_?" Fay murmured. "I'm suddenly imagining Zabini in an Auror outfit. Why is that image so appealing?"

Kellah licked her lips. "I don't know but it's making my mouth water, too."

Hermione groaned and shook her head. "Honestly, you lot. I don't know whether to laugh or walk off pretending I don't know you."

Fay snorted. "Says the girl who _analyzed_ our Unforgiveable and Illegal Spells professor."

"Shut up, Fay."

The girls managed five more steps before Padma sprinted through the courtyard, bee-lining for her sister. "Parvati! Parvati! Come here, _now_!"

Parvati looked apologetically at her friends before jogging after her sister. "What happened?"

Kellah yawned loudly and told her friends that she was going to get some studying done. Fay teased her by asking if she _actually_ studied. Kellah just shot her a dirty look and walked off, wordlessly dragging Lavender with her.

"Wha—I don't want to study!"

"You do now!"

Fay leaned over to Hermione. "I think Kell just saw Ron walk towards the direction of the Library… they're in stalker mode now."

Hermione snorted. "Women."

"I know, right? Listen, I want to go take a shower before going for a jog," Fay and her exercise. She was the only one other than Hermione that kept up with her exercise and healthy eating, "see you tonight?"

Hermione nodded. "Definitely."

With nobody left from her group of girlfriends, Hermione decided to head back to the Gryffindor Tower to study and hopefully get in a few words with Draco Malfoy.

_.xx._

_Muh- muh- muh?_

Hermione glared at her journal. She had _just_ made it back to the tower when her diary heated up. Apparently nobody was going to let her live _that_ down.

_Shut up, Malfoy._

Draco was sitting on his four-poster bed with his journal propped up on his knees. His friends were playing a round of Spin the Wand and he claimed he had a headache. In actuality he just wanted to write to Granger… and for some reason he was perfectly okay with that.

_Excited about our lesson?_

_Not it the least._

_You seem to have so many wonderful comebacks when not in Flint's presence._

Hermione scowled. _I swear to Merlin, I will cancel our flying lesson if you continue._

_How about we replace the word lesson with date?_

_Are you begging to take me out, Malfoy?_

_Now that I know it's possible to shut that pretty little mouth of yours, yes. I am._

Hermione gawked. He didn't just… he did… wait… what? She stared at the page with her quill sitting beside her. _And now that's the second time I've been rendered speechless today. I need to stop doing that_, she thought.

As if reading her mind, Draco wrote: _Have I shut you up?_

_Shut up, Malfoy._

_That seems to be your favourite thing to say. We should make it your catchphrase, like those superhero things you muggles love so much._

_Are you trying to annoy me?_

_Quite possibly. Is it working?_

_Very well, actually._

Draco had to smile. Why did he enjoy bantering with her? She was so unlike anybody else. If he tried to playfully argue with anybody else, they'd think he was trying to get into their pants. But not Granger…

Actually, he wasn't even sure if anybody had gotten into her panties. Last time he tried to ask her she got seriously angry at him.

_Good, that was my intention._

_Malfoy?_

_Yes, Granger?_

_Shut up._

Draco cackled. _You're losing the talent that makes you the brightest witch of our age. Not only were you rendered speechless twice, but you seem to not know that shut up has many synonyms._

Within two minutes Hermione responded: _bottle up, choke, dry up, dummy up, fall silent, gag, hold tongue, hush, keep trap shut, muzzle, pipe down, quiet, quieten, __quit chattering __, shush, silence, soft-pedal, still, stop talking._

_Did you seriously just give me synonyms for shut up?_

_Yes, I did._

Draco could practically hear her grin. _Touché Granger, touché. I'm beginning to like how you think._

_I thought you always liked how I thought._

_I did, but I would never admit to it._

_And you are now?_

_Yes, because we're friends._

_Frenemies, Malfoy._

_Tomato, tomato._

Hermione stared incredulously at what he wrote. _That only works when you're speaking aloud._

_What if I was?_

_I didn't hear you._

_Maybe you should clean out your ears._

_Malfoy!_

_I know, I know. Shut up._

_Actually I was going to say be quiet._

_Gaspeth! Granger knows how to use synonyms for 'shut up' in every day conversation._

_Shut up, Malfoy._

Draco chuckled out loud.

_Wait… did you just write gaspeth?!_

Draco twitched. He was hoping she didn't catch that. _My family is bred from royalty._

_You mean inbred from royalty?_

_Shut up, Granger._

_Should make that your catchphrase as well, Malfoy._

_We could have a couple's catchphrase._

_We aren't a couple._

_We're a couple of smarty pants._

_You say gaspeth and smarty pants? Who are you and where is the real Malfoy?_

_You humour me,_ Draco wrote smoothly. Why is it that his hand cramped when he took notes in class but he didn't seem to tire of writing to Granger? _But for now I must bid you adieu. See you tonight?_

_Yes, bye Malfoy._

_Later, Granger._

Hermione murmured 'Malfoy' and watched the ink disappear. Why did arguing with Draco entertain her so much? She argued with Harry and Ron on a regular basis and it didn't invigorate her the way that arguments with Draco did. Slamming the journal shut, Hermione was just about to get up when she felt the radiation of heat on her retracting hand.

Confused, Hermione opened the journal again.

_P.S: I miss you. Bye._

Hermione's heart began racing. "Draco…" She whispered before smiling and shutting the journal again. She wasn't going to make those words disappear anytime soon.

_.xx._

Hermione tiptoed through the library; she had gotten permission to 'study' in the restricted section for some 'extra-credit.' She was lucky that she was one of McGonagall's favourites… perks of being a teacher's pet. She made it to the eastern window to see that Draco was flying aimlessly through the air, performing perfect loops.

Pushing the window open, Hermione stuck her head out. "Malfoy!" She called. He stopped midway in executing a loop, looked over at her (while he was backwards and upside down), grinned, waved, and completed his loop before flying over to her.

"Hello Granger, ready for our date?"

"Lesson."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." Bringing his broom in close to the window, Draco held out a hand and Hermione took it, allowing him to help her out the library and onto his broom. Afraid of losing her balance, Hermione gripped onto his hand with all her might and brought the other hand up to grab his shoulder. Draco's free hand went around her waist and he decided to haul her onto his broom instead of waiting for her to climb on.

After she was sitting comfortably, with her back against his chest and her hands gripping the broomstick, Draco began guiding his trusty steed, Lightyear the broom, to absolutely nowhere. He had one hand loosely looped around Hermione's waist and the other hand dangling to his side.

"What's lesson one?" Hermione inquired as the broom remained afloat.

"Other than getting the broom to come 'up,' mount it, and kick off?"

Hermione snarled and whirled around to look at him. "Yes, _other than_. As long as I have _you, _I won't need to know how to mount and kick off."

Draco smirked playfully and brought his free hand up to flick her nose. Hermione scrunched her face and crossed her eyes to look at her nose. She didn't like the fact she liked it when he did that. It was a strange sensation.

"You have to learn how to connect with your broom, to be able to control it with your mind."

Hermione frowned. "But how?" She had turned around and was looking at the scenario out in front of her. Draco leaned forward and brought his lips to her ear.

"It just happens," he whispered and a shiver ran up her spine. "You don't know how, or when, but you just form this connection that means more to you than anything else in the world."

Hermione dared not turn around. "Kind of like a good… frenemyship?"

Draco lips seemed to get closer to her ear, if possible. "A good friendship." The hand that was around her waist tightened ever so slightly and Hermione hated how she loved how safe she felt. How… complete she felt.

Hesitantly she turned around to look into his stormy grey eyes. When she began talking, she could hardly recognize the own whisper of her voice. "I thought you said we weren't friends until we kissed."

He smirked.

Oh, how beautiful…

"I did say that, didn't I?" His voice was so silky, so velvety. It was completely ethereal and masculine and Hermione was acutely aware of how the hair on the back of her neck hair stood on end and how her heart began pounding against her chest. Because it was beginning to strain her to look at Draco while turning around, Hermione swung one of her legs over the stick of the broom and got comfortable sitting side-saddled beside Draco.

"Lesson number one," he leaned forward ever so slightly. The stars were twinkling brightly in the sky and the moon was faintly aglow. "When forming a friendship with somebody, it is always polite to seal it." Without waiting for a response, Draco dipped forward and caught her lips with his own. Hermione was stunned, her eyes wide and her body rigid.

Draco Malfoy was…

He was…

He was _kissing _her.

The free hand that was dangling to his side was brought up and curled around the back of Hermione's neck. She felt herself being pushed into him slightly and the arm around her waist tightened. Hermione decided to let her body go with the flow; to not _think_, and as hard as that was, it was possibly the best decision she ever could have made. Bringing her hands up, she wrapped them around Draco's shoulders and tilted her head up slightly. Immediately the kiss intensified. Draco ran his tongue over her lower lip and Hermione opened up to him. He shifted a bit closer to her and held onto her tighter.

Hermione's nails dug into his shirt and she clenched her fists, crumpling the green shirt he was wearing. The fireworks that surrounded them were magical, something so unreal, even to the two smartest magicians of the century.

The broom lost altitude suddenly and the two of them broke away from each other. Their foreheads, however, remained pressed together and Draco smiled. "Guess I lost my connection with Lightyear."

Hermione licked her lips. "You were too busy connecting with your mentee. You're a great flying instructor."

Draco pecked her lips. "I do have an amicable student."

Hermione only smiled as he connected them into another kiss, this time with more vigor. His hand moved up from her neck to her hair and he grabbed it gently. Into the kiss he whispered: "I've always liked your hair."

"Not too bushy?" She whispered as she had his lower lip caught between her teeth. Despite being trapped, he managed to smirk.

"Never."

In the distance a loud growling was heard. They regretfully stopped kissing and Draco lazily looked towards the Forbidden Forest and clucked his tongue. "I believe that's our call for lights out?"

Hermione nodded, albeit sadly. "It _is_ late now."

"Shall we continue this flying lesson tomorrow?"

"We shall."

Draco rubbed his nose against hers and promptly guided Lightyear back to the eastern window of the Restricted Section of the library. The broom came close to the windowsill and Draco took the opportunity to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. Thankfully she was still side-saddled. "Best student I ever had."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "How many students have you had?"

He grinned, wolfishly. "Just you." Leaning forward, Draco kissed her forehead before assisting her off the broom and into the library. "Goodnight, _Hermione_."

She smiled, knowing that a faint shade of pink tinged her cheeks. Oh, how he made her blush…

"Goodnight, Draco_…_"

He gave her a sensual wink before speeding off with Lightyear. Hermione stood there, gaping at the window and trying to comprehend what just happened.

_I have to be dreaming,_ she thought, _there could be no other explanation._

Draco Malfoy just _kissed_ her.

And it was the best feeling in the world.

_.xx._

**Words: 4 612  
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_**SORRY for the late update! :D Hope you liked this chapter…  
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	8. Lesson Number Two

**_In the Arms of Her Dragon_**

_"Why're you crying?" Draco whispered, sitting down beside Hermione in a deserted Great Hall. Looking up at him with puffy eyes, she admitted what happened earlier at the Gryffindor Tower. Without a moment's hesitation, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and said: "Come on, you're spending the night in the Slytherin dungeon. With me."_

_.xx._

Hermione was lying on her bed, dazed. Her lips were still throbbing from being kissed rather thoroughly by Draco Malfoy—she could still smell him, feel the strength of his arm as he held onto her; she could still feel the moment. It scared Hermione that she _wanted_ that moment to come back, for kissing Draco had to be the _best_ feeling in the world.

She tossed left, the right, then onto her back. None of the ways she turned helped her beckon sleep any faster. The violet aura of the night sky trickled into the dormitory and all Hermione wanted was to sleep—_and be kissed by Draco again__._

Wait_, __what__?_

Hermione growled and sat up, in utter annoyance. She didn't _want_ to lose sleep over the Slytherin "Prince" who also referred to himself as the "Sex God." (Though as of that moment, Hermione was entertaining what else he could do if he was so talented with his lips). Her eyes, somehow, drifted over to the journal resting on her bedside table and that caused a lump to rise to her throat.

Was she expecting him to write to her?

No. But why am I disappointed that he didn't?

Hermione clenched her sheets. Suck it up, Granger._ If you want to talk to him, message him __first__._

But she wanted _him_ to.

Hermione was ready to **scream**; her blood pressure was probably through the roof and any possible _chance_ she had of falling asleep was totally gone. Deciding she needed a little walk, Hermione clambered out of bed and grabbed her night robe. A stroll through Hogwarts it was—hopefully she'd run into somebody interesting.

Like Peeves.

Or Moaning Myrtle.

Or maybe… Draco?

_.xx._

The walk _had_ cleared Hermione's mind and she was able to return to the tower and sleep… for the two and a half hours she had left of the night. She _hadn't_ bumped into anybody of interest but she had come across the Room of Requirement. _Odd__,_ she had thought when she saw the massive doors appear; _I thought you only showed up when somebody required you._

Regardless, she had stepped into the Room to find a ginormous library of _everything _Hermione could think of. She didn't know it could do _that__, _but she took advantage of it anyway. By the time she looked at the grandfather clock she saw it was almost quarter past four in the morning. Putting the book away, she thanked the Room of Requirement in her head before scurrying out and rushing back to the Gryffindor Tower.

Hermione felt like she had _just_ fallen asleep when she felt a giant cushion thrown at her. Spluttering, she sat up suddenly and scanned the dormitory. Scowling, she blew her hair out of her face and glared at a snickering Kellah.

"That was not funny; that could've given me a heart attack!"

_"_I thought you wanted an early wakeup call for Herbology today." Kellah smirked "followed by Charms, Divination, and Care of the Magical Creatures."

Hermione flopped back onto her bed. "Nobody can be prepared for Care of the Magical Creatures."

"But Hagrid is teaching it."

Fay, who had just walked into the dorm, scowled darkly. "I swear, if a Hippogriff attacks me again!" She didn't complete her phrase but everybody understood what Fay was getting at—poor girl. She _was_ a drama queen, though.

_"_You and Malfoy _both_," Hermione shot. Fay rolled her eyes and walked over to her trunk at the foot of her bed to get her uniform for the day.

"If there's anything he and I have in common, it's that."

"And your hatred for Ron," Lavender piped. Her comment made the girls fall into a fit of giggles.

_Hopefully today won't be awkward with him_, Hermione thought as she crawled out of bed. She was _slightly_ tired, but she knew exhaustion was going to attack her midway through the day.

Joy.

_.xx._

Madam Sprout waddled through the greenhouse with the eighth years towing behind. Neville was the _only_ one that looked excited; everybody else just looked so bored. Of all the eighth years, Draco Malfoy looked the most annoyed—not that Hermione was watching him or anything.

And she _wasn't_ aware of how he_ didn't _even so much as make _eye_ contact with her.

_Foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach._ Hermione insulted bitterly whilst contemplating whether she should complete that moment of 'nostalgia' with the infamous punch.

"Look," Ron nudged Hermione who stopped walking to look at what he was looking. She missed the look that flashed through Draco's eyes when he passed the two friends right at that moment. "A Jupiter Fly Trap!"

Hermione's eyes bugged. "A what?"

Ron and Hermione inched closer and Harry, from the sidelines, called out: "Don't get too close, it likes to eat human hair!"

Hermione immediately zipped back and Ron burst into laughter. "I don't have hair long enough to- AHHH GET IT OFF!"

Lavender burst into laughter. "Yeahhh! Eat off that ginger hair, good plant!" Behind her the Slytherins were cackling and Madam Sprout was running forward to wrestle the plant off of her student. Harry couldn't help but laugh as well—the sight was to die for. Hermione stared in horror, knowing that it could've been her in the clutch of an evil Jupiter Fly Trap.

"Oww! OWW! GET OFF ME YOU BLOODY PLANT—HEY, WATCH THE EAR!"

Madam Sprout pulled out her wand, waved it, and immediately the plant let go of Ron. It sounded like it was _whimpering_ while it coiled back into its clay pot. "Damn bloody—don't hiss at me!" Ron snarled.

"Yelling at a plant won't do much for you, Plant Food." Draco called out. "Aren't you glad you got away sooner, Granger? If _that _thing got tangled up in your hair we'd have to shave it all _off_ to get it out."

"Put a sock in it, Malfoy," Harry muttered. "Remember: house unity. Be civil."

"Civil is not part of his everyday vocabulary," Padma murmured as she walked by them with her sister linked around her arm. "I don't even think he knows what that means."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Civil, adjective, originated between 1350 and 1400 rooted from the Latin word cīvīlis. The definition that pertains to us is number four, to be polite and courteous. Synonyms include: respectful, deferential, gracious, complaisant, suave, affable, urbane, and courtly. Is that good enough for you, Patil?"

Harry simply gawked at Draco as everybody struggled to shut their slack jaws. "If you weren't blond and flat-chested, I would've thought you were Hermione. That was… so… _Hermione_!"

Draco raised an eyebrow and Susan Bones bit her tongue in laughter. "Flat-chested, Harry?"

Harry looked at Susan, then Hermione, and then back to Draco. "Well Hermione _did_ go through an impressive post-puberty growth stage."

"Students! May we _please_ continue our lesson?" Madam Sprout roared as Hermione murmured:

"And get _off_ the topic of my _'impressive_ post-puberty stages'."

_.xx._

There was a two hour break between Herbology and Charms so Hermione decided to take the opportunity to get some studying done, as always. Kellah promised she'd smack Harry for making the impressive post-puberty stage comment but Hermione said to drop it—she had other means of _punishing_ Harry for what he said. Refusing to help him study for their NEWTs would be apt castigation.

Last Hermione knew, Ron was attempting to get Lavender to talk to him but Fay and Kellah were acting as her sentries. Hermione had a very funny mental image of Kellah and Fay dressed up in suits of armour glaring down at a quivering Ron.

Hermione skipped steps on her way up to the library when her journal, which was the first book in the stack of four in her hands, began heating up. Her heart jumped to her throat but she decided to let him wait—let him sit there and stare at his journal for the time it took her to get to the library, find an empty seat, sit down, get settled, find the books on the shelves that she required, return, and get comfortable.

That was what _he_ was going to have to go through for not even acknowledging her.

Ahh who was she kidding! Hermione couldn't wait that long herself; as she continued on her trek to the library, she flipped the journal open.

_You mad, Granger?_

Hermione simply gawked at what he wrote. Was she mad?! Of course she wasn't mad! She was just very… disappointed…

Yeah.

Disappointed.

She couldn't walk and write so she shut the journal and filed in the back of her mind to write back to Malfoy. He could wait that long, at least. Why was he asking if she was mad when _he_ hardly made eye-contact with her? Hermione's shoulders slumped; alright, she was partially at fault, too. She hadn't written to him and she was expecting _him_ to contact her. Her thought-process was slightly sexist and Hermione couldn't help but feel ashamed.

Though it would've been a wonderful surprise if he did write to her earlier.

What was she expecting? That he pull her into a dark corner of the castle and kiss her till her lips bruised?

Yeah, that'd be nice too.

_Fairy tales,_ Hermione thought, _it only happens in fairy tales and fables. Doesn't happen in real life and what are you even __**thinking**__?! Draco Malfoy! Draco-bloody-Malfoy! We're just friends. Yes, we kissed… but that's what promoted our frenemyship to friendship, right? Ugh, why am I over thinking—_

Her over-thinking was cut short when she was pulled into a dark corner of the castle. The first thought that crossed her mind was that Peeves was going to shove her into the wall and she'd have to find a way to get_ out. _She was, however, pleasantly surprised when the delightful familiar scent of Draco Malfoy filled her senses.

"I said, you mad, Granger?" His voice was so close; his body enveloped hers as she was pressed against the cold stone wall of the castle. Her books were crushed between their bodies and she had enough room to move to look up at Draco's stormy grey eyes.

"Why would I be mad?" She managed to raise an eyebrow. "I'm a tad bit annoyed that you stopped me en route to the library. Don't you have somebody else to harass?"

His chest rumbled which translated to a sensual chuckle that came from the back of his throat. "Pansy isn't nearly as fun as you are."

Hermione's eyebrows both shot up. "She isn't, is she? Perhaps you should acquaint yourself more with her. Whispers in the corridors claim that she's quite the vixen and has a sadistic sense of humour."

"Sadistic sense of humour, possibly, but vixen? Who the bloody hell is whispering? Diggory?"

"He's dead."

"Precisely."

Hermione shook her head and attempted to shove Draco out of the way. "If you're done bugging me, I really must get some reading done before—"

He silenced her inane babbling with his lips on hers.

Hermione was expecting yet not expecting for something like that to happen. Regardless, she melted into the kiss and began responding positively. The ethereal sensation was back, the fireworks, the world-stop-spinning-around-them perception. Hermione was close to dropping her books so that she would be able to clutch Draco's robes but managed to hold onto some ounce of control. Slowly, Draco pulled away from the kiss and pecked her lightly.

"Still mad?"

Hermione blinked as she stared into his eyes. "I was never angry to begin with. But thanks for checking, prat." She smacked him with the textbooks she never dropped. Puffing her chest out in mock annoyance, Hermione began to stomp off to the library when she heard her companion call out:

_"_I thought women were dainty creatures that couldn't hurt_ a __fly_ and the **men** were the aggressive type."

"Let's see you try to be aggressive with _me__,_ ferret!"

The echoes of his laughter followed Hermione to the library.

_.xx._

Professor Flitwick was standing atop a stack of books and was lecturing the eighth years on the values and ethics of proper charm casting. All the while the students were not paying attention and were either chitchatting quietly, or in the case of Draco and Hermione, writing in their journals.

_I can be aggressive. Just not in the hurt-you kind. Well, you __**still**__ would get hurt, but it's the good kind of hurt._

Hermione could only stare at what he wrote._Are you seriously implying that you're aggressive in bed…?_

_Your words, not mine, bookworm._

_Really? I take it you learned everything you know from the Malfoy in Hufflepuff?_

She looked up in time to see him smirk at what she wrote.

_He learned everything he knows from __**me**__._

Hermione glanced over at Fay who had begun painting her nails; obviously her tablemate was not paying any attention to her so Hermione turned back to her journal.

_You know, with all this talk about the imaginary Draco in Hufflepuff, I wouldn't be surprised if some people actually assumed it was true._

_Fay made that up, not me._

_Her measly attempt to cover up our conversation, I assure you._

_You still have to introduce me to this 'Malfoy,' bookworm._

_Tonight. Flying lesson time._

No response came from him so Hermione glanced up. There, leaning back in his seat and smirking like the man that he was, was Draco Malfoy. He was beaming with pride and it took all the control she had to not throw a crumpled piece of parchment at him. His egotistical attitude ground on her nerves so badly but, in the back of her mind, she knew that was a quality of his that drew her to him.

Who knew that being cocky and egotistical would attract Hermione?

Not Hermione, that's for sure.

_Hey, I have a question… actually; I've been pondering this since first year._ Draco wrote to Hermione.

Staring blankly at her journal, Hermione took a moment before writing her response: _Yes, Malfoy, I use conditioner._

She looked up in time to see his stupefied face.

_… you __do__? I mean, that wasn't my question but dear Merlin! What does it look like without—actually, I don't want to know. What I __**wanted**__ to ask is what books do you think Flitwick stands on? I'm pretty sure they're the same ones he's been standing on since he __started__ teaching._

He had a good point and, since Hermione was the golden student, decided she'd figure it out. Interrupting the professor midway through his "ethical procedures to conduct charms" lecture, Hermione inquired about the books.

"Professor! I was wondering if there was a textbook somewhere that outlined everything you're telling us?"

Everybody stopped their chatter to look at her, all thinking the same thing: _What the Voldemort?_ She wasn't asking anything of importance… and that was so unlike Hermione Granger. If there _was_ a textbook regarding the rubbish Flitwick was going on about, Hermione _should _know. In fact, she'd probably know before the Professor even knew.

Flitwick cleared his throat. "I'm afraid not, Miss Granger."

She, discreetly, looked over at Draco. He sat up straight and called out the next part of what the question he really wanted answered: "What about the books you always stand on?"

Ron coughed in an effort to hide his laughter. Flitwick blinked before looking down at the stack. "These? These old things are outdated editions of Hogwarts: A History."

All eyes turned to Hermione as she gasped with horror and, unintentionally, Draco burst into uncontrollable laughter. He was not expecting that answer at all. Hermione looked like she was about to die—her whole world probably crushed down onto her shoulders. Her beloved Hogwarts: A History was being used as a _stool_.

For Flitwick.

Oh, the justice behind how the world worked was priceless. Well, in Draco's opinion at least.

"Now, if that answers your question Miss Granger," Flitwick continued his lecture. Fay elbowed Hermione.

"You alright?"

Hermione nodded, slowly. "Yeah just… was not expecting that."

"Serves you right for asking a stupid question." Fay rolled her eyes and went back to maintaining her nails. Hermione turned her attention to her journal in time to feel it heat up; Draco's words began to bleed onto the page.

_Well… that was interesting. And not expected._

_This is your entire fault. I feel like all that I've known is a lie._

_Because Flitwick is standing on a stack of your favourite books?_

_That's the history of Hogwarts! It's almost religious! Wait, no, it __**is**__ religious._

_You need to get laid, Granger._

_MALFOY!_

_Why, need help?_

_MALFOY!_

_Good, you're already practicing how to scream my name ;)_

Hermione stared blankly at her journal before looking up to glare, with all the force she could muster up, at a smug looking Draco. He was digging his own grave and was already five of the six feet in.

_I'll take that as my queue to shut up?_

_Yes._

_Gotcha, bookworm. _

_Stop calling me that._

_Alright, bush-bush__._

"What the bloody—" Hermione said aloud before catching herself. She regained composure and looked both ways to see if anybody heard her—thankfully nobody did. Fay idly glanced at her and assumed that Hermione had read something she didn't agree with in her book and returned her attention back to her nails.

Draco was trying hard not to burst into uncontrollable laughter, again. Oh, how he loved teasing Granger.

She was just so _teaseable. _

_.xx._

"She _predicated_ you were gonna date a _dragon_!" Kellah howled as the girls lounged in their dormitory late into the evening. They had back-to-back classes right after Charms (Divination and Care of the Magical Creatures) so they were unable to talk about the things they saw, heard, and witnessed in class.

"She. Thought. You. Are. Going. To. Date. A. Dragon. She's lost it; officially _lost_ it." They were talking about Trelawney… and her amazing prediction making skills. Kellah still couldn't get over the fact that the crazy psycho fortune-telling professor foresaw Hermione dating a dragon.

Fay looked up from writing some Potions notes to give her two-cents. "Isn't it weird though? Trelawney's prediction matches the dumb song the Sorting Hat sung earlier this week."

Parvati's eyes widened and the look on her face was as if the meaning of life had just been discovered. "You're _right_!" She breathed, enthusiastically.

"So you expect me to believe that Trelawney and the Sorting Hat have a torrid love affair and they've both agreed to team up to have me go _crazy_ because apparently I'm dating a dragon?" Hermione said in one breath as she gave her friends a deadpan look. "Let me just Floo Charlie in Romania and get him to ship over Harry's Hungarian Horntail from the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Sound good? Then he and I can have some tea at Madam Puddifoot's."

"Sounds like a foolproof plan." Lavender piped and Hermione's eye twitched. "And if it doesn't work out between you and the Horntail, we can always make it go after Ron."

"We are _not_ seriously having this conversation."

"Yes, we are." Fay grinned stupidly. "But feel free to change the topic."

"Okay," Hermione had an evil glint in her eyes. "About that Draco Malfoy in Huffl—"

"SHUT UP, HERMIONE!"

_.xx._

Hermione was beginning to wonder how often she could use the 'I-need-to-study-so-I'm-going-to-go-to-the-library -tonight' excuse to see Draco before her friends became suspicious. On her way out of the common room, she was met with Ron and Harry playing chess. Ron asked her how long it was going to take the girls to forgive him and start talking to him properly once again, and Hermione responded with: "When you grow up."

Harry chortled unintentionally and Ron shot him a nasty glare before icily commanding: "Rook to E7."

Harry gawked as his Queen was taken down—how did he overlook Ron's rook?! Hermione took that opportunity to make her great escape and hurry on over to the library to "study."

Was it the thrill of befriending somebody that was considered _taboo_ to her friends that kept her wanting to see Draco?

Or was it the fact that he made her feel things she never did before. Sure, she felt _safe_ with Ron and Harry growing up but it was more like a brotherly type of safe. The two were always there to ensure that she got out of sticky situations… as she _instructed_ them on how to perform spells properly so she wouldn't get blown into bits as they attempted their heroic rescue.

But with Draco—

With Draco she felt a _different_ kind of safe, which was unusual because he was the bad guy for the majority of their time at Hogwarts. But he made her feel so safe, as if nothing could harm her. Just feeling his arms _around_ her was enough for her to know everything was going to be okay. Was it because she knew that he cared enough to take Bellatrix's Crucio? Or was it because she knew that he cared enough to _continue_ caring after the fact?

Whatever it was, Hermione never wanted it to end.

As she was lost in thought, Hermione missed the sound of something whizzing towards her. She stumbled back when a gust of air rushed past her; looking up she saw a smirking Draco mounted on Lightyear.

"Thought I'd meet you halfway, bookworm," he said playfully as he manoeuvred Lightyear closer to her. He held his hand out to help her onto the broom, just in front of him, and when their hands touched they both felt that familiar sizzle.

It was a feeling that neither could ever get used to but loved every moment of it.

When Hermione was safely seated in front of him, and he secured her with one of his arms snaking around her waist, Draco sped off. He weaved through the corridors and made it to the moving staircases before it shot straight up—Draco was taking it to the top floor.

"Where're we going?" Hermione asked. She was looking over her shoulder to see Draco's eyes furrowed; he was concentrating on their final destination. His eyes flickered to her and his intense expression broke.

He smiled at her.

"You'll see." And he took the opportunity to kiss her cheek. Hermione wanted to hide the blush so she quickly turned her head away from her 'friend.'

Lightyear seemed to get faster and faster and Draco's hold on her tightened slightly. Hermione's eyes were tightly snapped shut—irrational fear of heights plus very fast broom equaled a very, very afraid Granger. She felt Lightyear speed to the left and she tightened her hold on Draco. Within a heartbeat, his lips lowered to her ear.

"Afraid?"

Hermione shook her head slowly and that resulted in Draco chuckling sinfully sweetly. "Don't lie to me, Granger," his voice was a husky whisper, "but don't worry. As long as you have me, you have nothing to be afraid of."

Hermione was able to muster up enough courage and mutter a meek: "I know."

Again, he chuckled. Was that sound ever going to get old? _Probably not,_ Hermione told herself. His voice—his _laughter_, was amazing.

Lightyear whizzed into the Astronomy Tower before circling the globe once and shooting out to the open skies. Draco whispered for Hermione to open her eyes and, although hesitant, she did as he requested. Her breath caught in her throat. The night sky was unbelievably beautiful; the half-moon shone mystically in a sky filled with blinking stars and purple clouds.

"Wow," she breathed.

Draco guided Lightyear to the tallest tower Hogwarts had to offer which, not coincidentally, was the tip of the Astronomy Tower. Having Lightyear hover close to the tip, Draco dismounted before helping Hermione off. His arm went around her waist to steady her and with one whip of his wand, two pillows were conjured and Lightyear went to rest on a ledge.

"Stargazing?" Hermione asked, looking over at him. Draco nodded as he sat down, unceremoniously, on the pillow and pat the pillow beside him.

"Yes, so come join me."

Hermione shook her head but went to sit beside him anyway. As soon as she was comfortable, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and conjured up a blanket to cover them. Then, because he could, he kissed her temple. "Now _this_ is what you call a date."

"This isn't a _date_," Hermione rolled her eyes; "this is an outing between two friends."

"Which, in short, translates to date." Draco grinned, smugly. His arm that was wrapped around her shoulder gave her a gentle squeeze. "And I thought I should let you know that I was a nervous wreck all night."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "Were you now?"

"I was genuinely afraid you were mad at me for kissing you." His admittance was cute and made him more _human_. Gone was the tough guy persona that he always maintained. At that moment he was a real man with real feelings.

It made Hermione's heart race uncontrollably.

Blushing sheepishly, she rested her head against Draco's shoulder—it felt like the most natural thing in the world, to do that. "I was _kind_ of upset when you didn't write to me last night. Just _kind_ of."

And Draco, as if it was the most natural thing for _him_ to do, leaned over and kissed her temple. "Honestly, I didn't know whether you were mad at me or not." They were both staring into the sky watching the stars twinkle. In the distance, the far end of the Forbidden Forest, they saw a dragon take flight and soar off towards the moon. "I thought you were going to hex me." Draco, picturing his lips being hexed off to nothingness, shuddered.

Hermione had to laugh at him. Yeah, it was rather ballsy of him to kiss her but admittedly it worked for the better. "Does this mean we're _real_ friends now?"

"Yes." Draco's voice was a low rumble, almost husky. "It does."

Then silence.

A comfortable silence blanketed them and Hermione couldn't have asked for a better 'flying-lesson.' The arm that was wrapped around her shoulder began massaging her lightly and Hermione, subconsciously, snuggled closer into him. "This is nice," she whispered, afraid her voice might break the serene atmosphere. "I'm sure I wouldn't have such a great time with Hufflepuff Malfoy."

Draco's chest rumbled with laughter and he gave her shoulder another gentle squeeze. "He can't outshine the master, now can he? Though I'm sure you could have an equally good time with Flint."

"Malfoy!" Hermione playfully smacked his chest. Draco snickered at her measly attempt to faux-hurt him. "I thought we were never going to bring that up."

"When did we agree to _that_?"

Hermione paused, trying to think of a witty response. "Your dreams?"

"In _your_ dreams."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He aged gracefully, let's put it that way."

"He became graceful when the ogre in his mouth was fixed," Draco snorted. "Even _we_ made fun of him."

"And how did he become a professor? Of a brand new subject, might I add?"

Draco shrugged. "Beats me. I have to ask him; trust me, we're as surprised as _you_ guys are. He _failed_ a year too, I don't know what in bloody Merlin's name possessed McGonagall to hire him."

"She sees the good in people," Hermione mumbled. "I guess the world would be a better place if everybody did."

Not knowing what to say, Draco kissed her cheek. Surprised, Hermione glanced over at him and he took that opportunity to capture her lips. The kiss was unlike the previous night; it was gentler, slower, and filled with more passion. Draco used the force of his head to tilt her face up and when her mouth was angled with his properly, he deepened the kiss. Hermione bit his lower lip and he brought his free hand up to comb through her hair- oh, he _loved_ her hair so much.

"Lesson two, in flying," Draco murmured into her lips, "always do what the teacher does."

"Hmm?" Hermione said, not at all listening to what he was saying to her.

The hand that was holding onto her hair released and Draco curled it around the back of her neck. He wanted to taste more of her, _feel_ more of her... her lips were amazing and kissing her had to be the best thing he had ever experienced. Needing air, they pulled back to catch their breath. Draco pushed some of her bangs out of her eyes. "Hogsmead weekend tomorrow," He whispered, "the Slytherins are going. Do you want to have another picnic with me?"

Hermione's face lit up. "Will you make the snacks?"

Draco chuckled. "If you insist."

"Great, than I'll join you."

Finding her irresistibly cute, Draco kissed her once again.

_.xx._

**Words: 4 805  
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	9. A Magic Carpet Ride

_**In the Arms of Her Dragon**_

_"Why're you crying?" Draco whispered, sitting down beside Hermione in a deserted Great Hall. Looking up at him with puffy eyes, she admitted what happened earlier at the Gryffindor Tower. Without a moment's hesitation, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and said: "Come on, you're spending the night in the Slytherin dungeon. With me."_

_.xx._

Saturday dawned bright and early. Hermione squinted when the rays of sunshine lit up the girls' dormitory; she was the only one to wake up. Kellah was half on her bed and Fay, somehow, had fallen off sometime during the night. Lavender was the only one that slept with _any_ sophistication and Parvati was curled up into a little ball, snoring softly. Yawning loudly, Hermione sat up and scanned the room.

Last night filled her memories.

Never in her wildest dreams did she expect that she and Draco Malfoy would be _friends_— **kissing** friends at that! It was unexpected but so _familiar_ at the same time. It was as if this, her and Draco, were somehow prewritten and meant to be.

It was as if it was going to happen, no matter what.

Hermione suddenly froze. _Draco… the Latin word for Dragon… could Trelawney… no! That isn't possible—_Hermione's thoughts were cut short when she felt the heating sensation of the journal just at the foot of her bed. _How_ and _when_ she kicked it down there was beyond her; she was just glad that it was enchanted.

_Slept well, Granger?_

Hermione opened the journal to see Draco's morning message. An unintentional smile curled onto her face and she quickly retrieved her Perpetually Inked Pashmina Quill that Bill Weasley got for her for Christmas the previous year. Without further ado, she wrote back to the man that haunted her thoughts.

_Very well, thank you. Yourself?_

_It was so-so. Zabini, apparently, took up the art of snoring._

_How do you take up the art of snorting?!_

_Beats me. Ask him._

_You know what? I think I will. _

_How do you propose you do that?_

Hermione's eye twitched. Well, that was a silly question. She promptly responded with: _I'll approach him and ask him? Really, do you think I'm afraid of a few snarky little Slytherins?_

_Are you calling me snarky?_

_Perhaps. Why; what are the repercussions of me insulting you?_

_You're the smartest witch of our time, Granger. You tell me._

Two could play that game. _Well, don't you suppose a good spanking would help?_

Draco, who was leaning against his headboard, was not expecting her to respond with _that_. Whatever happened to his innocent little Granger who was in her Hogwarts _robes_ before the train even departed from platform 9 ¾? Draco paused his thoughts. _His_ Granger? Deciding that he needed to stop _thinking_ of Granger and start _writing_ again, he formulated his response.

_I was going along the lines of snogging, but hey, a good spanking never hurt a good girl._

_Why would one be required to spank a good girl?_

_If she wishes to go bad._

_Well, I don't see any around here._

_That's because I have yet to corrupt her._

Hermione rolled her eyes. He was a cocky prick, and she, for some reason, loved it. _Corrupting the incorruptible is impossible, Malfoy._

_Hence why they are termed 'incorruptible,' Granger… which you are not._

Hermione's eyebrows rose. "Did he…" She intently concentrated on her response. _Are you implying I am already corrupted._

Draco smirked like a snake from his end. She fell into his trap. _Pot-head and Weasel already __**started**__ the job. I just have to finish it._

Hermione was in shock. Did he just—he just…

_I'm not saying you shagged them, Granger!_

Hermione's eyes zeroed in on what he wrote and waited for him to continue. She knew he would, his man parts were on the line.

_The Granger __**I**__ knew back in first year was already in her robes on the Hogwarts Express looking for Longbottom's toad. The Granger __**now**__ breaks into Gringotts, steals a dragon from said bank, and then proceeds to break out of said said bank through the skylight with said dragon. She has also stolen a magical stone, snuck into a secret chamber, created polyjuice potion so that HER two best friends can look like MY two best friends. Not to mention she was also willing to lie to my psycho Aunt Bellatrix and was a breath away from being put under the Cruciatus Curse. So, Granger, am I leaving anything out?_

Hermione gawked at his paragraph before writing the first thing that came to mind:

… _it wasn't a skylight, it was the glass dome._

Draco burst into laughter at her response and took a moment to compose himself. This was the _second_ time Granger was rendered speechless. He would _never_ let her live this down.

_You can't hear me right now, but I'm dying of laughter._

Hermione was ready to retort when something hit her. _Wait! How did you know that we used polyjuice potion in second year?!_

_Seriously... did you honestly think I wouldn't notice Crabbe's hair turning red? Besides, Potter and Weasley do not have one sixteenth of the brain capacity required to concoct a polyjuice potion in second year. Actually, they still don't._

_Be nice, Malfoy. They helped you get off._

… _Granger, I swear to Merlin, don't you _ever_ tell anybody that "they" helped me "get off!" The very idea is utterly revolting._

_Augh! Get your mind out of the gutter! Okay, Malfoy, can we please stop talking about Harry and Ron?_

_I'm in agreement to that notion. Let's talk about last night._

_What's there to talk about? _Hermione was already blushing.

_Loads. Where to begin?_ Draco was beginning to enjoy the turn of their conversation.

_Well, the best place to begin is always at the end. So, the end! I'm off to bed!_

Draco snickered. _Granger, it's seven in the morning._

_I haven't finished my beauty sleep, yet._

_Don't worry, you're always beautiful. So, let's talk about it._

Hermione zoned in on the word 'beautiful.' Could he have meant that? Maybe, considering all the time that they were spending together… besides, he also said he loved her hair so that should count for _something_.

_There isn't anything to talk about. Oh, hey! Kellah is awake. I will see you later today for our picnic._

Shaking his head, Draco allowed her to win—but only this once! _Alright, I will meet you en route to the Astronomy Tower?_

_Sounds good. Bye!_

_Take care_.

Hermione slammed the journal shut and shoved it under her pillow before Kellah was _fully_ awake. She wasn't lying when she said that her dorm mate was awake; it was absolutely perfect timing. Not wanting to erase the conversation she had with Draco, Hermione chose not to whisper his name to trigger the deletion of the words in the journal. Some things were just meant to be kept for simply a while longer.

_.xx._

Hermione was sitting between Dean and Harry in the Great Hall for a late breakfast that morning. Kellah and Fay went for an early morning jog and Parvati decided to join her sister at her house table. Lavender was still sleeping in when the girls had left that morning; it wasn't anything new to begin with.

"You're coming with us to Hogsmeade, right, Hermione?" Harry asked as Hermione watched, in disgust, Ron scarf down two egg and cheese English muffin sandwiches. There was probably a black hole where his stomach should be… perhaps that black hole stemmed from the one that should be his heart?

_That's probably why he has the emotional range of a teaspoon!_ Hermione concluded in her mind.

"It's best if I don't." She finally answered as she tore her gaze away from the pig that was Ronald Weasley. Her eyes finally settled on Harry and, with her peripheral vision, she saw Draco in the background enter the Great Hall. His eyes lingered on her for a brief moment before he languidly followed Theo and Blaise to the Slytherin table.

_Say what you always say, Hermione._ She told herself. _Use what has been tried and tested_. So she spat out the excuse that never failed her: "I need to start preparing for NEWTs." Harry immediately donned the 'not this again' look and she heard Dean groan from behind her.

"You guys should be studying for NEWTs too!" She exclaimed, turning to look at Dean. "Because Merlin knows that you all will be coming to me for assistance after drinking it up at the Hogs Head."

"Okay, okay, we surrender!" Dean threw his hands up in the air. "Fine, don't come. Study. Study hard. You need to know what _you're_ doing so can tell us what _we're_ doing."

With a stuffed mouth, Ron mumbled something that sounded incoherently like: "Amen."

Hermione shook her head and went to take a sip of her pumpkin juice when her notebook began to heat up beneath her fingertips. Conspicuously (which wasn't that hard, the boys weren't paying attention to her anyway) she opened her journal to read what Draco wrote to her.

_Whatever happened, Thomas and Potter don't look impressed. Did you tell them that their bits were so tiny that they can only be seen from under a muggle microscope?_

Hermione bit her tongue to stop herself from choking on her juice and air. She retrieved the quill Bill got her and began writing her response. The Gryffindors simply assumed that she was taking notes—it would be the most appropriate thing to do after a 'study-for-NEWTs' conversation.

_How do you know what a muggle microscope is?_

_Malfoys know everything, Granger._

_But it's a muggle thing._

_I repeat, Malfoys know everything._

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked up in time to catch Draco watching her. Leaning back, Draco smirked and sent her a sexy wink before paying attention to the story Blaise was animatedly telling his fellow housemates.

"We're leaving at noon," Hermione managed to catch the tail-end of what Harry said. She turned away from Draco to look at her friends. "Spend the day there, grab dinner, and come back?"

"Are you _sure_ you want to study for the _whole_ day?" Seamus asked in his thick Irish accent. This time, Neville snorted.

"You obviously don't know her well enough. Back in first year, she studied all day and _night_." His response was met by Hermione throwing a bun at him. The boys laughed heartily which caused their female companion to harrumph and stand up.

"So be it! All of you can forgo excellent studying time by having _fun_," she said the word 'fun' in the best disgusted tone she could muster up. Truth be told, she wasn't going to be doing _anything _close to studying. She was going to have her _own_ fun.

Hermione wasn't aware of how a pair of stormy grey eyes followed her.

_.xx._

Despite her desire to write to Draco and request to, perhaps, start their picnic a little early, Hermione decided that getting in a little bit of studying would be the most practical thing to do. Kellah, Fay, Parvati, and Lavender dropped by the library to do some last minute persuading before leaving to join the boys on their trip down to the village.

Hermione wanted to join them, yes… but she's spent every year in Hogsmeade with them since they were _allowed_.

She had only recently begun spending time with Draco Malfoy.

And having picnics with him.

And kissing him…

_Especially_ kissing him.

Just the thought of his tender lips made Hermione's hair stand on end. He was attractive as nothing else, and kissed like he _invented _the bloody process…

_He probably did,_ Hermione thought shrewdly as she flipped through the pages of a book about pixies. _He _is _part French. I wouldn't be surprised if his ancestors have patented kissing._

"Granger, you _are_ aware that the book is upside down, right?"

Hermione jumped about a foot in the air. She was _not_ expecting Draco Malfoy's husky voice to sound from behind her at such a close proximity. Robotically, she turned around to find the man haunting her mind grinning stupidly at her. He was definitely prepared for a picnic: khaki shorts, a plain blue t-shirt, and a seashell-esque necklace around his neck. Hermione, although she was _in_ the school _in_ the library, felt out of place in her robes.

"I was practicing the skill of reading a book upside down." Hermione finally replied. "It helps with the process of strengthening one's concentration."

Draco snorted. "Just kiss me while we're upside down on a broom. I'm sure that would require ample concentration as well."

"It's not the same kind!"

"Maybe we should test it to find out?"

Hermione stared at Draco for a brief moment longer before turning back to her upside down book on pixies. "Perhaps. One day. But as of right now, I would like to get back to the mating rituals of adult pixies, thank you."

Draco chuckled. The sound was velvety, like dark chocolate. If Hermione's hair stood on end any_more_, she'd be a prickly cactus. "Why are you kidding yourself, bookworm." Ahh, there was the pet name again. Hermione was officially a cactus. "Go back to your tower, get ready, and I'll be outside of the window to the girls' dormitory in fifteen minutes, alright?"

Knowing that she was anxious to get picnicking with him, Hermione agreed. When she stood up, Draco took the opportunity to place a soft kiss on her cheek before strolling off as if he owned the place. Normally something like that would make Hermione shake with fury.

But for some reason, she was blushing…

And her heart was racing.

_Oh, Merlin… save me._

_.xx._

The weather was still agreeable for mid-September. Hermione opted to wear a strapless yellow sundress with a baby cut and a lacy black belt tied just underneath her bust. Because she knew that she was going to ride on a broom, she wore shorts underneath her attire—_just in case_. She wanted to look presentable for Draco; something she had never done before. She tied her hair into a side-braid and adjusted a sparkling silver headband just in time. A tapping on the window broke her attention from the mirror.

Like the god that he was, as perfect as Adonis, Draco Malfoy sat mounted on his broom smirking into the Gryffindor girls' dormitory.

Slipping into her black ballet flats, Hermione pushed the window open to not receive a greeting from Draco, but rather a _compliment_.

"I believe I've never seen you look as beautiful as you do right now." He managed a wink before continuing with: "Not even at the Yule Ball in fourth year."

The battle against the blush was a difficult one, but Hermione won!

"I hope I make the Malfoy in Hufflepuff a jealous man," he finally concluded before holding a hand out. "Mi'lady," he offered gallantly. "We have a feast awaiting us."

The urge to giggle like a moron was great, but Hermione overcome that battle as well. What was it about Draco Malfoy that made her feel like…

Like…

_A girl?!_

It was something Hermione decided she'd ponder later. At that moment, she had more pressing matters to attend to.

Like taking a hold of Draco's outstretched hand.

It surprised Draco that _every_ time he touched Hermione, he felt a sizzle course through his veins. He found himself spending many moments throughout his day pondering on _why_ such a chemical reaction _existed_. _Why_ did he feel a course of electricity _every_-bloody-_time_ Granger touched him?! Maybe she rubbed her feet over the carpets before their rides together—yes! That made the most logical sense.

Static electricity.

Hermione safely was able to mount the broom in front of her 'friend' and, immediately, Draco's arms wrapped around her waist. "Hold tight, Granger." His voice lulled into her ear. Hermione's heart began pounding dangerously against her chest and she was able to nod and whisper a meek 'okay.'

Controlling Lightyear with absolutely no effort, Draco was able to guide it to the Astronomy tower in little time. Hermione's eyes were squeezed shut for the entire ride, though. She hated heights… she hated heights…

She hated—

"Granger, when will you understand that I'll _never_ let you fall?"

Hermione made a sound between a snort and a squeak: "I know."

He chuckled; a velvety sound. "Then why are your eyes clamped shut?"

"My eyelashes hurt."

"That's a pathetic excuse, even for you."

"It's the best I could come up with between my irrational fear of heights and my equally irrational fear of falling." Her honesty made his heart melt, though he would never admit to it. Subconsciously he tightened his hold on Hermione.

"Don't worry," again with the velvety sweetness, "if you fall, I'll make sure to shed a tear at your funeral."

"DRACO!" Hermione opened her eyes, twisted her body over and smacked his shoulder. "You _could _at least spare two tears."

He smirked. "I _could_, but I just got you to open your eyes _and_ turn around without worrying about falling. I think I deserve an award."

Without thinking, she pecked him. Not wanting to see his reaction, Hermione promptly turned back around and snapped her eyes shut again. "I'm going to my happy place, please let me know when we've arrived at our destination."

"And where's your happy place?"

"On the ground. Nice, solid ground."

"Will a nice solid flying carpet suffice?"

For the second time in thirty seconds, Hermione opened her eyes. Before her was a royal purple flying carpet with gold tassels; atop the carpet was a picnic basket. Hermione was at a loss of words. She was expecting a picnic but _not_ one on a flying carpet.

Draco Malfoy never ceased to amaze her, but that probably wasn't the first time she made such a declaration either.

"A picnic?" She was amazed. Her eyes were locked on the enchanted piece of décor. "On a carpet?" She felt like she was in the Disney movie she watched as a child; Aladdin. She was positive, though, that Malfoy did _not_ know who the son of the King of Thieves was and how he had a genie in a lamp, a conniving pet monkey, and a magic carpet that always made it in time to save his butt.

Draco faux gasped. "Why, yes! How _ever_ did you guess?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she glared at her companion. "I don't appreciate the sarcasm much, Malfoy."

Choosing not to respond to her, Draco merely kissed her _just_ behind her earlobe and wordlessly helped her off the broom and onto the carpet. "Sarcasm is a language I'm fluent in, Granger." He finally replied. "Perhaps you should familiarize yourself? The rules are rather complex. As the smartest witch of our time, you would understand a challenge when it is presented, wouldn't you?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow as she watched Draco dismount Lightyear and land perfectly on the carpet.

"Sarcasm is the language of fools, Malfoy. An academic, such as myself, prefers to lose herself in literary masterpieces. In Latin."

"Draco means Dragon in Latin." Draco grinned which caused Hermione to snicker.

"I'm glad you know the etymology of your given name, Malfoy. Do you know where your surname derives from?"

Draco had a twinkle in his eye; Hermione quickly learned that that twinkle was only there when he was just about to show off his (what he assumed to be) superior intellect. "The name Malfoy is French, which is relevant to the fact that I am part French, and is derived from two French words: mal and foi. Together it means 'bad faith' or 'unfaithful.' Yes, I know, ironic." Draco input when he saw Hermione's lips curl up in amusement. "In existentialism, 'bad faith' is when people blame their failures on external forces. For the record, I sometimes blame my father."

"Perhaps I underestimated you, Mister Malfoy."

"In that case, I demand retribution."

Hermione knew what he was saying. As the carpet began to ascend (with Lightyear following close behind), Hermione leaned forward and was met halfway by Draco. His lips were gentle against hers and, without missing a heartbeat, he curled his fingers around her neck.

Hermione caught the collar of his shirt and managed to yank him towards her rather suddenly. Not expecting that, Draco lurched forward and managed to push Hermione down. Their lips were touching, though they weren't kissing, and they were staring into each other's eyes: Draco on top, Hermione lying on the carpet beneath him. His eyes searched her face as he brought the hand that was around her neck up and caressed her cheek.

"Have I ever told you that you are the most beautiful witch I've ever laid eyes on?"

Hermione fought a losing battle against her blush. "Perhaps, but that doesn't mean I believe you."

"A Malfoy never lies," he whispered as he kissed the tip of her nose. "Especially to those we care most about."

Hermione's heart was racing, yet again. "But I thought Malfoy meant unfaith—"

He silenced her with another kiss. Whatever he was, whoever he used to be didn't matter. Hermione knew about his past, knew of his family, was victim to his aunt's wrath, but she was still spending time with him. Being with him.

He couldn't have asked for anything more—and for some strange bloody reason, he wanted to head to Knockturn Alley at first opportunity to purchase that jewel encrusted quill he saw before the start of the term.

Draco wanted to see Hermione smile. He really wasn't lying when he said she was the most beautiful witch he'd ever seen. She was natural and flawlessly graceful without even trying. Those were qualities he admired in a woman.

That and she was smart _and_ strong. The perfect double-edged sword.

"Okay, okay," Hermione laughed against him. "I get it. Thank you."

He growled, a feral sound from the back of his throat. He was obviously _very_ reluctant to stop what they were doing, but Hermione had a point: food. Their main objective was to have a picnic and a picnic they were going to have.

"Fine. But I get dessert."

She knew what he meant by dessert…

"I'm okay with that," playfully she winked at him before reaching for the picnic basket. "Did you pack the cute sandwiches?"

"Food isn't cute, bookworm."

"Neither are you."

"I resent that." He was sitting beside her, leaning back on one arm. He used his free hand to reach forward to interlace it with hers. "I believe you find me dashing. And handsome."

"As handsome as an unfaithful ferret can get." Her voice was playful.

Draco lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. "Admit it, Granger, you find me irresistible."

"I do not!"

"Why else would my enemy's best friend be finding any opportunity she can to spend time with me?" Draco's heart sped up when he saw the glare she shot him. Merlin she was gorgeous. _Especially_ when she was mad.

"Perhaps I find that I owe you my life because you _saved_ it?"

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "I wasn't fond of Bellatrix anyway. Now, if Aunt Andromeda was going to—"

"Seriously?!"

Draco laughed and tugged her towards him. He let go of her hand and wrapped it around her waist, lying her down beside his now laying down figure. "You _really_ think I'd let you get hurt? _Even_ if it was by one of my aunts, Hermione?"

Oh _Merlin_… her first name!

"Haven't you realized how much you mean to me?"

Oh _Merlin_… he was being sentimental!

Draco kissed her forehead. "I'm kidding, bookworm… but I won't make jokes like that anymore. I know, not funny."

… "Maybe it was a little?"

"But jokes like that won't be repeated, okay? Now let's eat before I pass out. I'm so hungry!"

Hermione laughed, trying to calm her heart and her shaking nerves. "Pig. Now I see where that pudge comes from." And to 'prove' her point, she poked his abdominal region. As expected, she was met with rock-hard abs but she wasn't going to _admit_ it.

She wanted him to fester on the fact that he, may, have some love handles.

"I am not pudgy!" Draco whined. "Granger, I've been working out extra hard since you said that in Diagon Alley."

Hermione shrugged light-heartedly. "I don't think it's working."

Her tone of voice said it all; she was playing around. Growling playfully, Draco pinned Hermione. "I'll show you."

Their lips met.

And the picnic basket lay forgotten.

_.xx._

Draco dropped her off at the Library Restricted Section. Before he flew off, he kissed her goodbye and said he'd write to her later that evening. He had some things to do with Blaise and Theo, but he'd contact her as soon as he was done.

Hermione told him not to worry and to take his time.

He told her that she was amazing.

She told him to stop lying.

He said that just because his name meant bad faith, didn't mean that it represented his character.

She only grinned and said that she loved riling him up.

He responded with another kiss.

Hermione loved their goodbyes. She conjured up her books and began to exit the library as if she had spent a whole afternoon pouring over books and discovering the location of Pandora's Box or something. Though the goofy grin on her face, the unmasked glow, and the skip in her step _probably_ said otherwise, but Hermione didn't care.

Nothing could faze her now.

Hermione saw some of the seventh and eighth year students slowly filter into the castle, which mean that they were coming back from their day trip. She tried to muster up her best 'I-was-studying' face and tried to show less of her 'I-was-just-ravished-and-thoroughly-enjoyed-it' face. She managed to weave expertly through the growing crowd; she wanted to escape to the Gryffindor tower and relive _everything_ that happened.

Shortly after their snog session ended, they sat atop of the enchanted carpet and flew over the Forbidden Forest as they sipped tea and munched on perfectly cut sandwiches. Draco really _did_ have an attention to detail, which Hermione quickly learned. He made every effort possible to ensure that their picnic was an unforgettable one.

After they finished eating Draco made the basket vanish and pulled Hermione into his chest. He wanted to cuddle with her as the carpet remained afloat. It was peculiar (in a good way) how her body fit into his. It was a perfect union; as if they were made for each other.

The entire time, Hermione was mentally singing "A Whole New World." (One of the faults of watching Disney while growing up: she knew every Disney song by heart and could sing them in her sleep).

Though there were no promises of any future picnics, they both knew that they would probably have another one and very soon at that.

The Gryffindor password changed for the week and was now "Avante." Why that was the word, nobody knew. The Prefects announced it earlier that morning and the Gryffindors had to accept their password for the week.

"Avante." Hermione murmured and the Fat Lady smiled before swinging open. Noticing that there wasn't anybody in the Common Room yet, Hermione bee-lined to the dormitory. She didn't want to see her friends; she knew that she would burst into laughter if she did.

Deciding that she wouldn't let the opportunity present itself, Hermione went to take a long bath.

A _very_ long bath.

_.xx._

"Mate, you disappear every time we have Hogsmeade plans." Blaise muttered. "Are you hiding something?"

"Yes," Draco yawned. He was sprawled on the loveseat in the Slytherin Common Room. Apparently Theodore wanted to plan a surprise for Tracey and required the assistance of Draco and Blaise. Something about them being the biggest womanizers in all of Hogwarts history.

Draco stopped himself from saying: "Granger would know all about Hogwarts' history."

"What is it?" Theodore leaned forward and Draco raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret, now would it?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "A hundred galleons says he's having a torrid love affair."

"Malfoys don't _have_ torrid love affairs." Theodore smirked. "Draco couldn't stay with one girl for more than one _night_."

"I resent that!" Draco called. They didn't have to know he'd been talking to Hermione Granger since the start of the summer.

And that he had three picnics with her.

And that he regularly kissed her.

Those bits of information would remain his little secret.

"Well what are you doing for Trace?" Draco steered the conversation _away_ from him. "What's the occasion anyway?"

"Anniversary." Theodore promptly replied. "I was thinking of getting her this jewel encrusted quill I saw at Knockturn Alley."

Draco's blood ran cold. He was going to get _that_ for Hermione.

"When do you plan on getting it?" He tried to remain as cool and composed as possible. Blaise had resigned to study his fingernails. He wasn't one to surprise the ladies… he just loved them, that was all.

"Maybe owling Borgin and Burkes? I know they accept owl-in orders sometimes."

_Owl-in orders, hmmm?_

That gave Draco a rather splendid idea.

_.xx._

_Do you understand how bothersome it is to help one's friend figure out what to do to surprise his girlfriend?_

Hermione stared amusedly at the note Draco sent her. Dinner just wrapped up and the Gryffindors were lounging in the Common Room discussing their day at Hogsmeade and taking a trip down memory lane while they were at it.

Hermione was seated closest to the fireplace. Ginny was sitting on the couch, between Ron and Harry, and the rest of the seventh and eighth years were randomly strewn about.

_Why not surprise Tracey with a bouquet of chocolate flowers?_

_How'd you know it was Trace?!_

_The only two Slytherins dating are Theodore and Tracey. Everybody in the castle knows that, even Filch. _

_Well, we still haven't figure out what to do and their anniversary is coming up. If we don't think of something fast, I have to listen to Tracey whine about how unromantic Theodore is._

_How about a magic carpet picnic ride?_

Draco gawked at what she wore. Why didn't he think of that before?!

_Granger, you're a genius._

_So I've been told._

_I could just kiss you._

Hermione blushed. _Well, come on over and do it, Malfoy._

_I'm sure your dormmates would be opposed to me barging into the Gryffindor Tower to kiss their angel._

_They'll live._

_I quite enjoy this side of you, Granger._

_Your fault, Malfoy. I have been tainted due to your unfaithfulness._

He chuckled, shaking his head. Granger was a lot wittier than he gave her credit for.

_I'm faithful._

_We will see, now won't we?_

Draco's heart did somersaults. _Yes, Granger, we will_.

_.xx._

**Words: 5 102  
Pages: 15**

**Story Stats:  
Reviews: 629  
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**Sorry for the delayed update. Just finished moving and as soon as I get my computer desk (I'm sitting on my bed with my laptop and, honestly, after extended periods of time it's super uncomfortable) the updates will be more regular.**

**Hope you enjoyed it!**

**Also! For those commenting that the story is not progressing fast enough, REMEMBER, I'm aiming for 100 chapters so if I'm taking it as slow as possible with their relationship without it being boring :P**


	10. To Come to the Aid of a Friend

**_In the Arms of Her Dragon_**

_"Why're you crying?" Draco whispered, sitting down beside Hermione in a deserted Great Hall. Looking up at him with puffy eyes, she admitted what happened earlier at the Gryffindor Tower. Without a moment's hesitation, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and said: "Come on, you're spending the night in the Slytherin dungeon. With me."_

_.xx._

Heat scorched Draco's skin. He was standing in front of a ball of light that resembled the sun in the solar system; the heat was deadly, enough to burn cement, but Draco stood his ground staring murderously at it. His left hand was clenched and his right hand, with the faint outline of the dark mark, held his wand out in front of him.

"I repeat," Draco hissed. "Let. Her. Go."

The ball of light grew brighter and the reverberance of a female voice echoed out of it. "Oh dear nephew, when will you learn that a mudblood will only bring you down? I _will_ succeed in turning Voldemort's dream into reality, and the key to that is your disgusting, filthy little friend."

"BELLATRIX!" Draco screamed, lunging forward. The ball of light exploded causing Draco's flesh to melt. In the distance, before he succumbed to death, he heard a bone chilling scream-

"_DRACO_!"

_.xx._

Draco woke up with a cold sweat. That had to be the worst nightmare he'd ever had; Bellatrix, his psycho aunt, was determined to succeed where Voldemort failed. And, to attain her goal, she killed Draco and probably killed Hermione too. Or tortured her, Draco was unsure which would be worse.

Pushing his covers off of him, Draco headed to the washroom to splash some cold water on his face. Subconsciously his mind went back to the Sorting Hat prophecy the previous week- about a dragon and his lady. Draco wasn't stupid; he knew that the Hat was probably talking about him. His name was Latin for dragon.

And the bit with the sea and the sky?

Hermione stayed in the Gryffindor Tower, which was as close to the sky as any tower of residence could get.

And Draco lived in the Slytherin. It was submerged in the Black Lake.

The Hat was probably talking about Hermione and himself; it wasn't a coincidence that the year that they became friends was the same year the Hat said something about a Dragon and the sea and the sky and... _more bloody nonsense_. Draco knew Hermione was becoming somebody _very_ important to him, and he also knew it was a matter of time before people found out about their friendship.

And then what?

The son of a death eater- a previous death eater himself- befriending the best friend of Voldemort's destroyer? He could _hear _his father's voice in his head. Draco, leaning over the sink, stared into the mirror, into his groggy reflection.

_She helped kill Voldemort, Draconis!_ The Lucius Malfoy in Draco's head taunted. _I know we've stopped advocating blood supremacy, but you need to have **some** sort of pride! This is tarnishing the Malfoy name._

"I don't _care _if this tarnishes our name, and I don't _care_ if she helped kill him." Draco whispered to his reflection. He saw Lucius Malfoy in himself. Draco inherited the signature Malfoy hair and the Malfoy eyes. His jaw structure resembled his mother's, a Black trait, but he was a Malfoy; through blood, through genetics.

Draco tore his gaze away from himself. He thought about it all the time, about why he threw himself in front of Bellatrix's crucio and why Hermione cradled him while crying. It was that moment that an unbreakable bond was formed between them that made them _want_ to spend time with each other, and go on picnics... and kiss.

Kissing... Hermione Granger.

It had to be the best feeling in the world. Draco had his fair share of kissing in his last eight years in Hogwarts, but none of them could compete to Hermione. _None_ at all. Perhaps it was because of that bond that he had with her? Or maybe it was rooted deeper, something that only the stupid Sorting Hat knew.

Draco growled and ran his fingers through his hair. He didn't want to admit it, but he was slightly worried. Worried that Hermione would change her mind when news began to spread (eventually) about the son of a Death Eater and the saviour of the world were friends. Slytherins and Gryffindors were enemies, even if they were slightly more _civil_ with each other, that didn't change hundreds of years' worth of animosity.

And now the Prince of Slytherin and Princess of Gryffindor were cavorting?

Draco could see the headlines in the Daily Prophet already: _Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger's illicit love affair! Could they have secretly been plotting against You-Know Who? Or, perhaps, it was the other way around! _And with the headlines came his father's angry voice and the taunting of his dorm mates. But that didn't _bother_ **him**. What bothered him was that he didn't know if it was going to bother Hermione. Alright, so Draco was slightly insecure, but he never was involved with somebody as intellectually skilful as Hermione, and as beautiful as Hermione, and witty as Hermione.

Basically he'd never been with _anybody_ like Hermione.

Draco pushed away from the sink and punched the wall. Why was he getting so worked up over it? Whatever! They were friends.

End. Of. Bloody. Story.

Deciding to forget his insecurities for the moment, Draco started heading back to his dormitory to squeeze in as much sleep as he could for the rest of the night. Sundays at Hogwarts were usually (an unspoken rule) study days. Anyone that was particularly interested in passing their classes sought assistance for projects, and whatnot, on Sundays. Draco had to review the curriculum for the term anyway; he probably was going to ask Snape for clarification on some potions projects.

Draco _always_ did, every term.

Silently shutting the door behind him as he entered the dormitory, Draco crept over to his bed and sank into it. His eyes were shut and, out of habit, he shoved his right hand under his pillow to feel for the journal. His eyes snapped open when he felt it, and felt that it was _warm_. Hermione had written to him.

But it was three in the morning.

Maybe she was hurt?

Draco pulled the journal out from under the pillow and grabbed his wand from the night stand. "Lumos." He whispered. When a small bubble of light appeared, he opened the journal.

"Vetitum amicitia." Draco murmured, revealing Hermione's text.

_Are you awake?_

Draco cracked a silly grin and moved to grab his quill. _Yeah. Why're you awake?_

_Neville's toad jumped on my face and I woke up screaming. The girls woke up too and Parvati went to yell at Neville. I didn't expect you to be up._

_But you certainly hoped, which is why you wrote to me, isn't it?_

_Shut up, Malfoy._

_That **is** your catch phrase. I've never had somebody tell me to shut up so often..._

_That's because I find you insufferable._

_And attractive._ Draco enjoyed his banter with Hermione. She always had some comeback for him, and they weren't pathetic and brainless... except for the 'shut up, Malfoy.' That was probably her fallback phrase when she had no witty comeback. Draco _did_ learn that Hermione Granger was capable of being rendered speechless, so maybe when she told him to shut up it was because she had nothing left to say.

_Perhaps a little, but the Malfoy in Hufflepuff gives you a run for your money. I spent the day with him yesterday, you know. He packed me a wonderful picnic and took me on a magic carpet ride._

Draco, despite himself, grinned like a stupid fool. So she was playing _that_ game, was she? Alright, two could play it. _Is that so? How was your time with him? I'm afraid I didn't fare as well as you did; I was stuck with this insufferable know-it-all, buckteeth, bushy-haired witch._

_Were you now? I pity you. No, this Malfoy ensured that I had a spectacular time, which I did might I add. He makes this wonderful cucumber sandwich with the crust cut off... must be the most heavenly thing I've ever had._

_Lucky you. When do I meet him?_

_He's out of your league._

_Very funny, Granger. I'm in a league of my own. I pity the mortals that try to come close to where I stand. _

_Are you implying you're immortal?_

_My rugged good looks and charming personality has left an impression on all the students of Hogwarts, as well as the professors. I hear Dumbledore's portrait constantly praise what a genius student I was._

_Then I must be Socrates reincarnated._

_Than you can call me Aristotle._

Hermione giggled at his response. He was the perfect person to engage in a battle of wits with.

_Okay, Aristotle. I believe we should hit the sack now. You have to tell me tomorrow why you're awake, though._

_Perhaps. Night, bush-bush bookworm._

_Goodnight, bad faith._

_.xx._

"Quidditch tryouts begin today." Harry declared as the group of eighth year students began their descent to the Great Hall. "We received the thumbs-up from McGonagall late last night. Slytherin and Gryffindor share the field from two to four, and Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw share the field from four to six."

Hermione frowned. "Tryouts? But I thought we agreed to talk to Madam Sprout today about making our NEWT all written with no practical."

"Yes… but _Quidditch_!" Ron whined. "We have to win the House Cup this year because… well… there weren't any House Cups the past _two_ years. It's a pride thing, Hermione, you wouldn't understand."

He missed the dangerous glare she sent him. Mockingly she said: "You need to sort out your priorities."

That caused the group to laugh at Ron's expense.

"I'm surprised you know what a _pride thing_ is." Lavender shot bitterly at the ginger-haired boy. "Any man who decides to knock up a Hufflepuff mustn't have any form of pride whatsoever."

Ron looked aghast. "I didn't knock her up!"

"Pfft," Kellah snorted. "We wouldn't know, now would we?"

"Oh, will you lot give it _up_ already!" Ron yelled, exasperated. "Can't a red-blooded man do anything around here without facing bloody consequences by you so-called _Gryffindor Angels_?! At least the girls in _Hufflepuff_ know what they wa—"

The corridor that they were in went deadly silent when they heard a loud _smack_. Hermione's palm had connected with Ron's cheek, causing his head to snap sideways.

"I never thought I'd say this, but Draco Malfoy is right." Hermione hissed, missing Draco, Theodore, Blaise, Adrian, Tracey, and Pansy turning the corner. They stopped dead and watched the scene unfold.

"But you're _nothing_ but a _worthless_, _useless_, _tactless_ piece of… of…"

She couldn't finish. She wanted _so_ badly to insult Ron but she _couldn't_ bring herself to say the word. Luckily for her, Draco _just_ so happened to know _exactly_ what word she was looking for.

"Shit," he called out and Hermione's eyes widened. She didn't know he was there. "He's a worthless, useless, tactless piece of shit. He's also a good-for-nothing Weasel, looks like a squished pug, has the emotional range of a teaspoon, and has about the IQ level of a doorknob."

Ron scowled. "Nobody asked you, Malfoy."

"I do recall Granger quoting _me_; therefore, I was asked indirectly." Draco strode languidly to the group of Gryffindors. His Snakes followed him, all smirking broadly—Pansy and Tracey stood back to watch the scene unfold.

"You are in dire need of pointers from _real_ men on what it's like to be a real _man._" Blaise snickered. "I'd offer to help but… you're a lost cause."

Harry shoved Ron aside to glare at Blaise. "Nobody asked _you_, Zabini."

"When my mate is indirectly asked, then we are as well." It was Theodore to retort. Hermione and the other Gryffindor girls exchanged glances and promptly took a step back. They didn't know how or _why_ the Slytherins got involved, but it looked like it was going to get messy and they did not want to be caught in the crossfire.

"You, Mia, are an instigator." Fay nudged Hermione. The latter girl could only smile apprehensively before turning her attention back to Harry yelling at Blaise. She caught Draco's eye and shot him the _'if-you-dare'_ look. Apparently he got the hint because he immediately grabbed Blaise's arm.

"Zabini, drop it. Pot Head and Plant Food aren't worth our time."

Blaise snickered. "I can't believe the Jupiter Fly Trap _actually_ ate you. Wow, I _am_ wasting my time talking to you_._" Laughing, Blaise walked off with Draco. As much as Draco wanted to glance over his shoulder to take one more look at Hermione, he knew it'd be way too obvious so he restrained himself.

Hermione sent a silent prayer of thanks to Merlin. She didn't want to have a situation on her hands; she'd have to tend to both Harry _and_ Draco if they scrapped.

And she could only _imagine_ how intolerable the _both_ would be. If there was _anything _Harry and Draco had in common it was that they were _extremely_ whiny when the opportunity presented itself.

Case and point one: the skele-gro incident with Harry.

Case and point two: "the-Hippogriff-broke-my-arm-but-the-cast-kept-swi tching-arms, but-I'll-make-sure-my-father-will-hear -about-this" incident with Draco.

"This house is losing its sense of family." Ron spat after the Slytherins left. "You left me to the vultures there… scratch that, you _brought_ the vultures _to_ me."

"If you weren't stupid…" Hermione muttered and chose not to finish her phrase. She didn't have the energy to argue with Ron.

Ron took a dangerous step towards Hermione. "You know, ever since the start of the term you've been a complete _bitch_."

"At least _I_ have the decency to not _snog_ other boys when one _clearly_ admires me _in my own house_!"

Now there was a circle forming around Ron and Hermione. She was glaring murderously at the boy and Ron could only match her glare with his own. "You got your knickers in a twist because nobody wants to snog _you_?!"

If only he knew…

"I don't _need_ anybody to _snog_ me." Hermione hissed. "When _I_ find somebody, he's going to respect me enough to not want to snog me _meaninglessly_!"

"Good luck with _that_! The only way you will get _any_ action is if you become another notch on Malfoy's broom."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Malfoy's broom doesn't _have_ notches. It's _new_!"

"Well look at that! He notched the old one down to a _sliver_ so he had to get a **new one**!"

Everybody watching the fight was ping-ponging between Hermione and Ron.

Hermione and Ron.

Hermione and Ron.

"At least Malfoy knows what he's doing _enough_ to _notch his broom_ down to a sliver. How many notches do _you_ have?!"

The fight was getting out of hand.

"Go be Malfoy's fucking slut, Hermione." Ron snarled but was taken aback when he felt a fist impact his jaw. All eyes turned to a _seething_ Draco Malfoy.

"If you _dare_…" Draco whispered. "_Every_ say that. _Ever_."

Ron, whose cheek was pulsing, turned his rage onto Draco. "You working on getting into Hermione's pants now, are you? Why else would you defend her on the train when _your_ goons called her mudblood _and_ now?! Do you _fancy _her?"

"Regardless of if I fancy her or _not_, I was _taught_ to respect women."

By then the crowd doubled. Kellah nudged Hermione and whispered: "Why did _he_ punch Ron and not Harry or Neville or Dean or Seamus?"

Hermione shrugged her heart racing and her eyes locked on Draco. "No idea," she whispered back. Fay decided to answer that question herself.

"Ron's their mate. They don't want to jeopardize their friendship with him."

"And _my_ friendship with _them_?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Guess only the girls are passing their NEWTs this year." Parvati murmured comically.

The tension was thick enough to be sliced with a butter knife. There were daggers being thrown between Draco and Ron and the onlookers didn't know what to expect. Draco's jaw tightened. His eyes bore into Ron's and it was taking all of his willpower not to _beat_ Ron into a bloody _pulp_.

Draco was enraged. He didn't even want to use his _wand_ to inflict pain. He wanted to use his fists.

"Respect women, hmm?" Ron scoffed. "Is that why your old broom was notched to a sliver?"

Draco took a lethal step towards Ron. "Listen here, _Weasel_. When I'm with a woman, she is the _only_ person I am with emotionally and physically. Until the day comes where we have to call it off and tie up loose ends, I will remain faithful to her _endlessly_."

Hermione's eyes widened slightly… she knew his speech was also directed to her.

"I have learnt respect, honour, and loyalty. Despite the fact I'm in Slytherin." He took another step towards Ron. "But you, _friend_," he said the word 'friend' with disgust, "display qualities that even us Slytherins would be ashamed to have."

Harry and Dean decided it was time to intervene. The two of them stepped in between Ron and Draco to stop Draco's advancements. Harry spoke up.

"Okay! Okay… perhaps this is getting a little out of control. It was a spat between Hermione and Ron. Friends fight, Malfoy. You don't need to get so worked up about it."

Draco's eyes flickered to Harry. "Friends don't tell their friend to be _anybody's_ slut, let alone their enemy's, Potter. You'll never hear me tell Pansy to be _your_ slut; that is quite possibly the worst form of disrespect."

Looking at Hermione for a brief moment, Draco let his eyes linger on her before turning back to Harry and Ron. "And I _highly_ doubt I've shagged as many girls as _you_ have."

Ron's expression melted from anger to cocky. "_Oh_! So you're _admitting_ that I'm more of a man than you."

"Hardly." Draco took a step back. "I'm _telling_ you that you are a man whore and I'm selective when it comes to my women. I only pick the finest, smartest, and wittiest of them all. Not to mention ethereally beautiful."

Ron barked with laughter and Fay was tempted to conjure up a bag of popcorn. The fight was getting good…

"If _that_ were the case, why haven't you gotten Hermione yet? She's smart and witty."

"And ethereally beautiful?" Draco cocked an eyebrow and Hermione managed to skilfully hide her blush. How did this go from _their_ loyalty to women to _her_?!

"Let's end this before Ron gets hexed by Hermione for shoving his foot in his mouth." Dean squeezed in before Ron could formulate a response. Fay wanted to oppose the notion but figured Dean was doing the right thing.

"He's already shoved _both_ his feet into his mouth." Kellah muttered under her breath and Lavender shoved her hard.

Draco looked at Ron for a brief moment longer before turning around. "You Gryffindors are a waste of my time." Without a sparring glance he turned the corner and disappeared. The crowd was silent for a moment longer before Seamus whistled low.

"_What_ was that?"

"_That_ was war." Kellah muttered. "How the bloody hell did that escalate?"

"If I were to repeat how the fight started then we'd have a case of déjà vu." Hermione murmured before turning on her heel and stomping off. She wanted to rip Ron's hair out and paste it to his chest (considering he couldn't _grow_ any on his own)—she was _never_ so angry at anyone before.

_Never_.

_.xx._

_You okay, bookworm?_

Hermione, who was in a secluded corner of the library, watched the words in her journal begin to bleed onto the page. She was toying with the Healer Pendant around her neck. Ever since Draco got it for her and she put it on, she never took it off.

It _became_ a part of her.

_I'm okay. Thanks for earlier._

_I'm surprised your supposed friends weren't sticking up for you. What would've happened if I didn't show up in time?_

_Then we'd have Ron's body parts scattered throughout the Forbidden Forest. _

_… crap. Then I shouldn't have come back._

_Why did you?_

_To tell you which ingredients Snape told us to get for our potions assignment._

Hermione gawked at what he wrote. She wasn't expecting _that_ to be the reason for him returning to where she and Ron were quarrelling. _Really?_

_Yes. I spoke to Snape today about the curriculum and thought we should get a head start on our project. Apparently Potions has a seating plan too but because Snape was ill… we didn't know._

_Let me guess, we're seated together?_

_Whatever gave you _that_ impression? Anyway, do me a favour will you?_

_What is it?_

_Turn around._

Hermione froze and stared at the last two words. Robotically she turned in her chair to find the object that constantly plagued her mind leaning against a bookshelf with his journal and a quill in his hand. "Draco?" She squeaked.

Snapping his journal shut and making it disappear; Draco pushed himself off of the shelf. Languidly, he strode to where Hermione was sitting and, without word, used his index finger to tilt her face up and planted his lips on hers. Hermione was in a state of shock but managed to quickly recover and respond to his caress.

His other hand snaked its way around to the back of her neck and he pulled her closer to him, wanting to feel more of her lips.

More of _her_.

"If that Weasel ever talks about _my_ woman like that ever again…" Draco murmured into the kiss. He used his teeth to grab hold of her bottom lip but she managed to yank away. She pressed her forehead against his and stared into his endless gray eyes.

"_Your_ woman?" She cocked an eyebrow. "That's a new one, Mister Bad Faith." Their breathing was ragged and Draco took the opportunity to lean forward and steal a kiss from her.

"Why did that piece of rubbish speak to you like that?" Draco's fingers caressed the nape of her neck. "And why _didn't_ your friends defend you?"

Hermione sighed and melted into his touch. She _really_ needed him, and as much as she didn't want to admit it she was glad that he was there with her right then. "I have theories… we were having a fight over Ron's womanizing issues and he basically said that the Gryffindor girls were spinsters and Hufflepuff were…"

"Loose?"

Hermione grinned at Draco. "Pretty much. So we fought about that and something about you having so many girls that you notch your broom every time you get laid came up… and he told me to be your slut, and you punched him."

"That part I know. And your friends not defending you?"

"The girls didn't know how to react… and I think the boys were confused on whether they should jeopardize _my_ friendship, or Ron's."

Draco sighed and placed a soft kiss on her nose. "Bookworm, I want you to punch him like you did me the next time he speaks to you like that, understand?"

Hermione couldn't help but giggle. She was feeling miserable until Draco decided to pay her a little surprise visit. She told the girls that she wanted to be alone and snuck off to the library to immerse herself in her wonderful books. Hermione was not in the mood to speak to anybody at all.

Until Draco showed up.

He was something else, altogether… and Hermione was beginning to like it. A lot.

The hand that was under her chin moved down to grab a hold of her pendant. "I quite enjoy seeing you wear this every day, Granger."

"A good frenemy of mine got it for me." She teased and Draco grinned wolfishly.

"Frenemy? I thought we graduated to friendship."

"Right, right, my mistake." Hermione laughed. "Thank you, Draco."

The way she said his name sent shivers running up his spine and his nightmare from earlier was beginning to creep into his mind. In his nightmare she screamed for him… desperately cried for him to save her but he… he…

"Anytime, Hermione," he whispered in response. "When I said I'd catch you when you fall I didn't mean it literally. In every figurative sense there is, I _will_ be there for you."

Sighing softly, Hermione nodded. "I know."

Draco took a step back and crossed his arms in front of his robes. "Well then, are you going to wallow in misery in the library all afternoon?"

"That was the intention." Hermione eyed him warily. "Why? Do you have another picnic for us on a floating bed sheet?"

Draco gave Hermione an incredulous look. "Bookworm, bed sheets don't float." Her joke completely went over his head. "And no, I don't have another picnic. The Quidditch tryouts are now and as the team captain, I have to be there. So why don't you use the pretense of supporting Gryffindor to come watch me execute my perfect flying tricks to onlooking second, third, and fourth year Slytherin girls?"

Hermione shook her head in amusement. "You're a character, Malfoy. I'd love to see you show off but I kind of don't want to see Ron right now."

"Then don't. Watch _me_ instead." He gave her his best Malfoy-puppy-dog-look he could muster up. "Please _Hermione_?"

The way he said her name did it for her. She slammed her book shut and scowled at her 'friend.'

"Fine. You're a prick, you know that?"

Laughing, Draco kissed her cheek. "I know. And you love it."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go."

_.xx._

Hermione was sitting with Ginny, Kellah, and Fay in the Quidditch field. They were recalling the argument from earlier and the girls were at a consensus that Ron was in the wrong and shouldn't have said what he said to Hermione. The conversation then shifted from Ron's stupidity to Draco Malfoy's masculinity.

"He looked so riveting." Fay sighed dreamily. "He just came out of _nowhere_, defending Hermione's honour."

"He's doing that a lot lately, hmm?" Ginny nudged the quiet Hermione. "I heard about the incident on the train too, when Crabbe or Goyle called you the m-word."

Kellah tapped her chin. "Well... maybe it _is_ because he's promoting inter-house unity. Perhaps he's trying to be civil after being an a-class arsehole to Hermione for the better part of seven years."

"Five." Hermione murmured and all eyes turned to her. "He was a jerk to me for five years. He lay off in sixth and seventh year." _Not to mention that he saved my life from his psycho aunt._ Granted Harry and Ron knew about it, but that didn't mean that they would suddenly call Draco their best mate. And Hermione wasn't sure if the girls knew about Draco's heroism.

"He's dreamy though." Kellah concurred with Fay. "The way his muscles were bulging... _and_ what he said about intelligence, and wit, and ethereal beauty? That was so _romantic_!"

Hermione's eyes moved to the sky and followed Draco's flying figure on Lightyear. Her mind reeled back to the flying lessons she had with him and found herself begin to wonder when they would have another late night rendezvous. One of the third year boys (Hermione didn't remember his name) was having a hard time trying to catch the quaffle. Apparently the captains of the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams (Harry and Draco respectively) were able to request the non-live balls from Madam Hooch (which meant they were only able to get the quaffles). Both captains were using the quaffle as a mean to determine who would make the cut.

As Draco promised, he was showing off. He did a fancy loop in the air and flew around upside down for a while. Hermione wasn't completely ignorant. She knew that he was showing off for _her_ and not for the Slytherin girls in second, third, and fourth years.

"Hermione?" Fay shoved her friend. "What are you_ watching_?"

"Ron making a fool of himself." Hermione was quick to respond and her answer seemed to satisfy her friends. Ron _was_ making a fool of himself; he was purposely trying to outshine Draco and perform fancy tricks himself. As predicted, Ron's tricks weren't as smooth as Draco's.

"I can't believe he brought up the topic of _pride_ with you." Kellah shook her head. "He says _you've_ changed since the beginning of term? I say _he's_ changed. Gin, what in Merlin's name happened to him over the summer?"

Ginny untied her ponytail while watching her brother and shrugged. "No idea. He seemed normal all summer... kept getting into trouble with mum, getting on Fred and George's nerves, annoying Percy, and being a doting brother-in-law with Fleur. Then school started and he just..."

"Did a complete one-eighty?" Hermione offered and Ginny nodded.

"Did a complete one-eighty- LOOK!"

All eyes snapped to Draco Malfoy hanging off the side of his broom... doing _chin-ups_. Hermione's heart jumped to her throat as she, for a fleeting moment, thought that he was going to fall. No, that wasn't the case; he was being his usual show-offy self. Hermione tried not to show how much seeing Draco hang precariously many kilometres in the sky bothered her; she was already planning on giving him a piece of her mind for giving her a heart attack like that!

"He seems to be in a good mood." Fay observed. Kellah snorted.

"If you landed a good punch on Ron, you'd be in a better mood yourself. He's been a complete prick as of late and I just want to wipe the castle floors with his big, white, pasty arse."

The girls giggled. Hermione looked back up at the sky in time to see Draco hoist himself back onto his broom. He looked down at her, caught her eye, and winked. Hermione scowled at him and she saw him throw his head back and laugh. He _was_ in a good mood, and seeing him laugh made Hermione want to smile.

She couldn't wait to be back in his arms...

"That girl is really good." Ginny pointed out and Hermione moved her gaze from Draco to a familiar third-year Gryffindor girl. Hermione remembered seeing her face around the Common Room a lot, but she couldn't put a name to the face. Whoever she was, she was _really_ good at manoeuvring her broom. From what Hermione could tell, she was trying out to be Keeper.

"She is." Fay hummed. "She's cute too. Let's set her up with somebody!"

"Ugh, Fay!" Kellah groaned. "Fay! She's, like, five years old!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Kell, she's fourteen. She isn't much younger than us. Besides," Hermione didn't want to admit it, but she sometimes enjoyed playing matchmaker. There was such a sense of accomplishment with it! "I heard Dean Thomas is in the dating scene."

"Is he really?!" Kellah's eyes twinkled. "Because I've been eyeing him from second year!"

Ginny and Fay threw their heads back in laughter and Hermione only shook hers. Over the years the girls had become such important people in her life. She was always with Ron and Harry as they were the ones practically _leading_ the Wizarding war, so she quickly learned to appreciate her girlfriends.

"Then forget _her_!" By 'her,' Fay meant the Gryffindor girl trying out to be Keeper. "Let's get _you_ hooked up with Dean!"

Hermione believed she never saw Kellah blush before. But there she was, blushing, and blushing _very_ hard. Ginny wrapped an arm around Kellah's shoulders in an effort to comfort their friend. Kellah sighed loudly and allowed her shoulders to slump. Yeah, she had a crush on Dean Thomas. So sue her.

Hogwarts was always fighting to stay _alive _so Kellah figured telling the boy she fancied him wouldn't be the most appropriate thing to do.

The girls engaged in a conversation about setting Kellah and Dean up and missed the Gryffindor Team landing just a few feet away from them. The Gryffindor tryouts were done and the team was ready to retire to their dormitory... it was a long two hours. The veteran team members (as Harry would announce the ones who made the cut the following morning) approached the girls.

Ron was sneering. "Look who decided to show up-" He trailed off. Ron spotted Draco landing _just_ behind where the girls were sitting and caught the dirty glare the Slytherin Prince shot at him. Ron looked back at Hermione and saw that she glanced over her shoulder to look at what he was looking at. "Your bodyguard can't protect you forever. Especially not in _our_ Common Room."

Without waiting for her to respond Ron stalked off. Everybody gawked at his retreating figure...

"What is _wrong_ with him?!" Fay snarled. "He's acting like he's the King of the bloody school and that _nobody_, especially a Malfoy, can defend Hermione. So what? House unity, inter house cooperation. The war is bloody _over_ and most of the Slytherins don't advocate blood supremacy."

"It's a pride thing," Kellah echoed what Ron said earlier. Harry took a seat between Ginny and Hermione.

"I tried talking to him, but I got nothing. I'm sorry about what he said earlier, Hermione." Harry wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulder and the girl smiled, leaning into her friend's touch.

"I don't know what's gotten into him." Hermione sighed. "He's getting all antsy because of the fact we're mad at him?"

Seamus shook his head- he was on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team as well. "It's because Malfoy punched him in an effort to defend _you_."

Ginny snorted. "At least _somebody_ is looking out for Mia. What were _you_ boys doing?!"

Hermione shrugged Harry off, stood up and turned around. She was a tad bit disappointed that the Slytherin Team, including Draco, were gone but didn't let it show. "Drop it, okay? Forget about what happened. I'm not mad at the boys for not defending me. I understand, Ron and I are both your friends and it would've been a bad situation. I'm thankful for Malfoy for being there, though I'm not sure about the punch."

"Ron deserved it." Kellah murmured but Hermione ignored her.

"Let bygones be bygones. Ron'll be okay, eventually, and we'll all move on from this. Now, since tryouts are done, I'm going back to studying. Snape is assigning us potions projects and I want to get ahead." Hermione gathered her books, which were placed neatly on the ground, and walked off. Harry watched her and couldn't help but feel terrible for not coming to her aid earlier.

He was her best friend. It should've been _him_ stopping Ron's tirade, not Draco. Sighing, Harry turned back to the rest of the Gryffindors. "Butterbeer?"

They erupted into loud cheers.

_.xx._

"Who were you showing off for?" Blaise nudged Draco as the boys, still in their Quidditch uniforms, walked towards the Slytherin Dungeon. "Those chin-ups were rather good, mate."

Draco snarled and moved away from Blaise. In an attempt to get away from nudging distance, Draco walked into Adrian. Adrian wasn't any nicer than Blaise was and continued to taunt his captain. "Zabini's right, Malfoy. Who were all those acrobatic acts for?"

"I was only showing the Slytherins trying out that Quidditch isn't just about _flying_. It's about physical strength, smarts, and apt concentration as well." Draco sounded stupid, even to himself.

Theodore snorted. "Apt concentration on trying to show off to your lady."

"I do not have a lady!"

"Then why'd I see you wink at Hermione Granger?"

Blaise had him there. Draco felt his blood run cold and he did the first thing that came to mind: he ran away.

"You lot are crazy!" He managed to call out before mumbling the password to the dungeon wall and rushing into the Common Room. Adrian, Blaise, and Theo exchanged amused glances.

"Do you think he fancies Granger?" Blaise asked and the others shrugged. They didn't know _what_ to think anymore... Draco was changing, and although they all agreed that it was for the better, they wanted to know who was the cause of the change. Blaise wasn't lying, though. He _did_ catch Draco wink at somebody and the _only_ one that was watching the Slytherin team, from the direction that Draco was winking, was Hermione Granger.

"He can fancy whoever he wants. As long as it isn't a Weasel." Theodore muttered.

"Or the Patil twins." Adrian added. "Besides, Granger's the smartest witch in the last _century_. She's probably the only one that can shut Malfoy up. And she's a sight for sore eyes."

"She _is_ a beauty, isn't she?" Theodore drawled as the boys entered the Common Room. "I wonder what she'd look-" One look from Draco, who was sitting on the sofa, stopped Theodore from finishing his phrase. "In Slytherin robes..." he lamely finished.

"Your prerogative, Malfoy." Blaise shrugged. "We're no one to judge."

Draco could only nod at the boys. Blaise disappeared into the dormitory and Theodore and Adrian headed in the direction of the bathroom. Draco stayed seated on the sofa; the boys reacted to that a lot better than he thought they would. Untying his cape, Draco let it fall onto the sofa before he stood up and sauntered in the direction of the dormitory. He was anxious to write to Hermione...

If he couldn't have her in his arms right then and there, he might as well settle for having her words in their shared journal.

_Oh Granger, what in Merlin's name have you done to me?_

_.xx._

**I was inspired to write this chapter :P A little bit more action and less fluff… I'm working on getting to the good beefy antagonist-y stuff!**

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Pages: 17**

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**(Since chapter 9)**


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